


wait for me in the sky

by onlydaisy



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Accidental Cuddling, Angst, Bisexual Sokka (Avatar), Canon Universe, Canon-Typical Racism, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Gay Zuko (Avatar), Homophobia, Idiots in Love, Idiots to lovers is more accurate, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not much really, Oblivious Zuko (Avatar), POV Zuko (Avatar), Partially Blind Zuko (Avatar), Partially Deaf Zuko (Avatar), Pining, Post-Canon, Sharing a Bed, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Zuko (Avatar) is an Idiot, Zuko (Avatar)-centric, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, mostly bc of kiyi and republic city, some references to the search and imbalance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 17:35:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 32,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29336142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onlydaisy/pseuds/onlydaisy
Summary: Zuko knows it was a mistake, but it comes out of his mouth anyway, and somewhere down the line everyone thinks he and Sokka are dating, which was not his goal with trying to come out to his nation, but now it's happened and he has no idea what to do about it.He expects Sokka, when he returns, to be mad about it, or to laugh it off and correct everyone's misguided opinions. The last thing he expects is Sokka to suggest they run with it, maintain Zuko's precarious reputation as best they can. They spend most of their time together, anyway, what's the harm in having to pretend to be a couple for that time?A lot, it turns out.
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 69
Kudos: 166
Collections: zukka fics that make my heart happy





	1. Chapter 1

In his seven years as Fire Lord, Zuko has become an expert at not sleeping.

With everything he needs to fit into the day, plus the stresses of the day that easily keep him awake, it’s just simpler to work through the night the majority of the time. At least then he doesn’t have to face the nightmares that still plague him frequently, as much as he hates to admit that they’re still a problem years after he should’ve gotten over them, years after his father was put in prison and his sister was last seen anywhere near the Capital.

Still, they creep up on him when he least expects it, leaving him a terrified teenager again and unable to sleep for fear of what might happen.

The only person that can ever get Zuko to sleep is Sokka. He and Aang are the only two that really know the extent of Zuko’s love-hate relationship with looking after himself, but Aang has far too many responsibilities across the globe to be able to keep frequent tabs on his sleep schedule.

Sokka, however, is far too stubborn to let his responsibilities get in the way of that.

He moved to a house near the palace in Caldera two years ago, after living with Aang and Katara in Republic City for a year, to avoid having to spend time around the two of them after they’d gotten engaged, and Zuko’s sleep schedule has never been better.

Most nights, Sokka will come looking for him in his study, often with hot food straight from the kitchens, then will drag him straight to bed as soon as he’s eaten.

Zuko still refuses to tell him about the nightmares, though. While Sokka has seen him in some of his worst states, he knows he can’t open up about that; the panic he gets, hardly remembering who or where he is, is something he doesn’t want anyone else to see.

He’s worked through a lot of the things his father had drilled into him over his childhood, but his fear of showing his vulnerability is one he’s still yet to touch. He’s shown Sokka enough of that, he doesn’t need to add more to the list.

Zuko doesn’t know what he’d do without Sokka, really, and has become far too dependent on him over the last two years, which has become especially evident over the last week while Sokka’s been in the Southern Water Tribe visiting his family. Zuko’s only left his study for meetings and to occasionally wander around the palace aimlessly when he needs to think, which is a lot less interesting without Sokka.

The palace gets lonely at night; in the day it’s full of officials and guards and other staff and sometimes the occasional tour.

At night, it’s different, with only a few guards stationed at the front of the building. There used to be more in the years following his coronation, when there’d be an assassination attempt every other week, but the people of the Fire Nation seem to have now accepted Zuko as their ruler, for better or worse, and he’s been able to reduce security a bit and give himself the freedom to wander without a constant tail watching his every move.

Zuko wanders now, sleepless but unable to focus on the paperwork he needs to do, and remembers what the palace was like growing up, guards and servants kept on for all hours of the day to be ready to fulfil any desire any of them could ever have.

Sure, it was fun, when he and Azula would sneak out of their rooms as kids and ask one of the cooks to make them spiced sweet tea that they’d drink hidden behind the heavy curtains of the throne room before their mother or uncle found them and ushered them to bed, or Lu Ten found them and helped them steal some ice cream or hot cakes (Zuko later found out these weren’t stolen, but pre-prepared food that Lu Ten had asked the kitchens to make for the kids, and they just snuck around playing pretend).

But despite the fun of it, Zuko still couldn’t stand to keep up the standard of 24/7 staff. There were plenty of hours in the day for the palace to be maintained without anyone having to work through the night, and there wasn’t anything Zuko needed between dinner and breakfast that he couldn’t manage himself.

Besides, over the last two years, Sokka has become more than happy to cater to Zuko’s every need, despite Zuko’s strong objections to this. He’d often cook for Zuko in the night when Zuko insisted that he’s _fine_ , he’s not _hungry_ , but Sokka would insist that no one can survive after just having one meal in a day, he needs to _eat_.

Zuko has grown accustomed to Sokka’s invented cuisine of seafood-heavy, very Water Tribe-inspired dishes laden with Fire Nation spices and ingredients. He can’t pretend he hasn’t missed it over the last week and knowing there’s still another week to go until Sokka returns – _if_ there’s no delays, which there often is, usually just Sokka enjoying being at home – is already killing Zuko.

Despite Sokka living a few minutes away, he spends most of his time in the palace, bringing a life to it that Zuko can never seem to replicate.

Now, the heavy rugs and tapestries simply dampen all noise without Sokka to fill the halls, creating a deathly silence that sends a creeping down Zuko’s spine, still yet to recover from having to watch his every move in his own home for fear of an assassin jumping out at any moment.

Zuko wanders into the royal gallery, one of his least favourite rooms in the palace, but one he always seems to return to, nonetheless.

His own portrait hangs down, next to that of his father’s.

Mai had suggested he get rid of Ozai’s portrait; that he doesn’t deserve a place in palace after all the damage he did to the Fire Nation (though neither should Sozin or Azulon, with that line of thought), but Zuko insisted they needed to stay; he didn’t want to erase the history of his nation, as much as some days he wishes he could. He wants, and his been working hard to over the past seven years, to bring his nation into a new era of peace and prosperity, to the point where the history is no longer a tragic scar on their people.

He looks up at his portrait, looming tall over him, a powerful Fire Lord he’s not sure he’ll ever be.

He takes a deep breath, feeling the sunrise on the horizon and knowing if he wants to make it through the day packed to the brim with meetings, it would be smart to try and get some rest.

But, on his walk back to his room, he can only think about the fact that he hasn’t got Sokka’s food or persistence to get him to sleep.

Instead, when he gets to his room, he changes out of his royal robes into training gear so he can do some sunrise exercises, hoping maybe they’ll make him feel more ready for the day.

He goes through the motions, but his heart isn’t in it and he gives up quickly, instead making the short walk to the turtle duck pond in the gardens for some meditation to give his mind a reset before the new day.

The gardens are empty and peaceful, and Zuko sits down by the edge of the pond, crossing his legs underneath him.

He takes a deep breath, trying and failing to clear his mind. His thoughts keep drifting to the end of the week, when Sokka will return.

He’d never tell Sokka because he wouldn’t shut up about it, but he’d made sure the day is cleared of meetings or work so they can spend time together, catching up.

There won’t be much to catch up on, not really, but a two-week trip in Sokka time is more like two years, and he could spend hours catching Zuko up on every tiny thing that happened while he was gone. Not that Zuko would ever complain; he could listen to Sokka talk about the dullest subjects for hours because of the way he spins stories, holding his attention easily.

When Zuko opens his eyes, he half expects Sokka to be sat next to him, in one of his regular Zuko-is-meditating-and-I’m-bored positions, like lying across the edge of the fountain, or sitting unreasonably close and watching Zuko while he meditates.

Zuko’s disappointed by the empty space next to him, the emptiness of the gardens no longer feeling peaceful, instead just overwhelmingly devoid of any kind of life or personality.

He gives up on any further meditation and goes back to his room, washing and dressing for the day. All he has to do is try not to fall asleep in any meetings, and then they day will be enough of a success for him. That’s all he needs.

Zuko heads to his first meeting, not bothering with breakfast. He can worry about that later if he gets hungry, which he doubts he will.

Since it’s his first meeting of the day, he arrives in the meeting room before anyone else does. Traditionally, meetings would be held in the throne room, but Zuko neither wanted to sit in the throne, nor have meetings held there because of his own personal history with it, as well as the history of the decisions that had been made in that room.

Instead, he had a different room repurposed for meetings where everyone could be on equal level, sat around the same table, and the throne room grew dust, cold and unused.

Someone brings in tea for him that he never asked for, but appreciates nonetheless, and the room is soon filled with officials and ambassadors to discuss whatever the meeting is about, something Zuko’s entirely forgotten.

One of the officials starts speaking, introducing the meeting. Zuko tries _so hard_ to pay attention, to keep his focus on the person talking so he can be involved and resolve whatever they need to discuss, but his eyelids keep dragging down, the heavy pull of sleep creeping up on him.

The meeting passes slowly, uneventfully. Zuko manages to pay enough attention to comment occasionally, and make sure no one is doing anything he’s drastically opposed to, but other than that for the rest of the meeting he teeters on the edge of sleep, fighting a losing battle.

Why sleep is so compelling when he’s sat in a hard, wooden chair in the middle of a meeting when he can’t even get remotely close to sleep lying in a big, comfortable bed, he has no idea.

More meetings come and go, Zuko drifting through them in a similar sleepy haze.

Namiko, one of the Northern Water Tribe representatives, approaches Zuko after a meeting, while everyone else is draining out.

“Lord Zuko,” he says, with a polite bow, “I was wondering if you’d like to join us for lunch.”

Zuko knows he should eat, not being able to remember when he last had something. He’s sure it was yesterday, but he doesn’t know when.

He knows, too, that if he doesn’t eat something with Namiko and whoever else, he probably won’t eat anything.

“Of course, I’d love to,” Zuko says, “I have one more meeting, then I’ll join you in the dining hall.”

Namiko nods, then leaves with another bow and smile.

Zuko waits a moment, then leaves after him, heading to a new meeting.

He sits down in a more intimate room, designed for one-on-one meetings that would end up awkward and distant if they were attempted in the main meeting room.

He’s early, the previous meeting having been wrapped up early, and Zuko hopes the advisor arrives soon so they can get this over with quickly.

He rests his elbow on the table, his chin on his hand, his head feeling far too heavy to hold up after a week with very little sleep. He’s starting to reach his limit and knows if he doesn’t get at least a little bit of sleep that night he’ll probably start losing it.

“Lord Zuko,” a voice says, making Zuko jump, not even having realised he’d closed his eyes and was starting to drift off. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Zuko shakes his head, gesturing to the chair the other side of the table.

“It’s no trouble.”

The man, Akio, takes the seat, looking nervous.

Zuko had been used to these nerves for the first few years as Fire Lord, but people started to settle down when they realised Zuko wasn’t about to banish or punish them for the slightest misdeed.

It makes Zuko nervous, too, because there must be a reason that he’s nervous.

“What did you want to discuss?” Zuko asks, wanting to get this through with quickly.

“Well, uh,” Akio says, shuffling the papers in his hands, “we’ve been looking at public opinion, as you asked.”

Zuko nods; he’d assigned Akio to this a while ago, wanting to keep tabs on how his people feel about him as Fire Lord and what he’s doing with their country; his father rarely considered anyone’s opinions or desires beyond his own and Zuko has been trying to rule in the opposite way, ensuring that his people are happy with his actions and the way he chooses to rule the nation.

“We’re still struggling to recover after the war, as you know.”

Zuko nods again, hoping he can get to the point sooner. He’s drilled over the specific details of how the Fire Nation is suffering for far longer than Akio could ever imagine.

After helping to rebuild the Earth Kingdom and Southern Water Tribe, and building up the United Republic, the Fire Nation was struggling. It is a fact that Zuko was reminded of most meetings, something they had all worked on immensely to improve, but is still indisputable, and something that was unavoidable if Zuko wanted to help restore balance across the world and fix the Fire Nation’s relationships with the other nations.

“A lot of our people are struggling because of it,” Akio continues.

“I’m aware of all of this, Akio,” Zuko says, not trying to be mean about it, but knowing if he’s going to have to sit and listen to his failures any longer, he might lose the will to live.

“Yes, of course,” Akio says, “my point is…people need something to raise morale. I’ve discussed with my team, and we’ve agreed we need some kind of celebration, something to-”

“I hardly think a party will solve our economic issues,” Zuko interrupts.

“Not a _party_. An event. Something for the public to follow. A distraction if you will.”

Zuko is wary, feeling as though Akio knows exactly where he’s going, but is just dancing around the point to delay it.

“What are you getting at?”

“The team agreed that, _ideally_ , a royal wedding would do the job.”

Zuko frowns. Maybe Akio is right, and a royal wedding would help boost morale, but they’re hardly in a situation for that to occur.

“I know you haven’t seen a royal wedding in your lifetime,” Akio continues, “but there is a lot of spectacle around it, a big show. The entire nation gets to follow the planning, the build-up. It’s the perfect distraction.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Zuko says, “but none of my family are in relationships. Azula has been missing for years, and Kiyi is _far_ too young for that to even be _considered_.”

“Of course, sir, I meant…well, seeing their Fire Lord getting married could serve as the perfect distraction.”

It takes a moment for Zuko to process what he’s said. _Him_ getting married?

“Akio, again, I’m not in a relationship.”

“That doesn’t necessarily have to be an issue,” Akio says, “there will be plenty of women around the Fire Nation that would be _more_ than willing-”

Zuko flinches at the word _women_. One of the first laws Zuko repealed was Sozin’s ridiculous anti-same sex relationship law, but the opinions on them still linger.

Zuko doesn’t know how to bring it up to any of the people he works with, let alone his entire nation, that him marrying a woman isn’t exactly in his future.

“You know that isn’t how we do things in the Fire Nation,” Zuko says.

“It’s not unheard of,” Akio says, “your parents-” he hesitates with the look Zuko gives him, but continues despite it, “they didn’t know one another before their marriage.”

“A marriage for political convenience isn’t something that I’m interested in.”

“I appreciate that, Lord Zuko, but you cannot deny the effect a distraction could have on your people. Having a Fire Lady by your side as you rule could be a powerful image. The birth of a prince or princess would _really_ -”

“My mother was torn from her family and forbidden from seeing the man she loves,” Zuko says, feeling an anger rising inside him, his inner fire burning hot. “My sister and I were born out of a loveless marriage and that was evident in our upbringing. I will not curse my children to the same fate.”

Zuko thinks about Kiyi, eternally happy and optimistic, the result of a happy marriage between two people that love each other. While marriage is something far from Zuko’s mind, a relationship not even on the horizon for him, he still knows that’s what he wants; what he’s seen between his mother and Noren.

“I understand, sir, but providing an heir-” Akio starts, but Zuko’s had enough. He stands up, pushing his chair back harshly behind him.

“No, I don’t want to hear any more on this matter,” he says, bitingly.

Zuko turns to leave, but freezes with his hand on the door, already regretting snapping at Akio.

The man is only doing his job and trying to help Zuko, his parents’ relationship and Zuko’s miserable childhood has nothing to do with him, nor does Zuko’s sensitivity around the pressure to _find a wife_. It’s definitely not his fault that Zuko inherited his father’s temper and still struggles with it.

Zuko takes a deep, calming breath, trying to sooth the fire burning bright inside him.

“I’m sorry, Akio,” he says, turning to face the man, “I appreciate your advice, but it’s not something I feel comfortable doing, but I still shouldn’t have reacted the way I did.”

Akio nods, “I understand, Lord Zuko. I shouldn’t have insisted, I spoke out of turn.”

Zuko nods, turning and leaving while his temper is still under control.

He goes straight to his room, ignoring the lunch plans he was supposed to attend, and nearly burns a fireball straight through his wall.

He can handle the pressure of being Fire Lord, just about, but not _this_ , not the expectancy for him to find a wife, to have kids. He’s twenty-three, and only managing to keep his friendships afloat because he’s friends with some of the most stubborn people in the world that would never let him forget about them, and they all see each other through their work.

He can’t even begin to think about how a relationship would work; he can barely look after himself, let alone someone else. Plus, he hasn’t met anyone new outside of a professional environment since he became Fire Lord, and he definitely isn’t ready to bare his soul to someone new.

His friends know about the tragedy of his childhood and have experienced ( _far_ too first-hand) how he struggled in his teenage years. They _know_ him, inside and out, and it was a painful enough process to go through with them, he’s not about to do it with someone new.

Zuko wants to complain to someone, to pace and yell and have someone to nod along and agree with him.

Sokka would normally be here for that, always ready to get just as angry over anything that annoys Zuko, even if it’s got nothing to do with him.

But Sokka’s not here, and Zuko’s alone.

He sighs, settling for pacing his room alone and briefly contemplating sending a hawk to tell Sokka he needs to come back to the Fire Nation as soon as possible, but he knows he can’t be selfish like that, not when Sokka’s chosen to live in the Fire Nation instead of at home with his family.

Zuko stops on that for moment.

Why _did_ Sokka choose to live in the Fire Nation when he left Republic City?

Zuko knows how much Sokka loves his tribe and his family, but he never really thought too hard about Sokka’s choice, just happy that Sokka was living in the same city as him. Zuko makes a mental note to ask Sokka about that when he gets back.

Zuko knows he’ll have to make his way to his next meeting soon, his allotted lunch break rapidly approaching its end, but he’s really dreading it.

Today is a particularly hard day, back-to-back meetings until the evening. Zuko knows it’s his own fault; he tried to fit in as many meetings as possible in today, so he’ll have time to work throughout the rest of the week and then more than enough time for Sokka when he gets home.

He wants to regret it, wishing he could stop now for the day and retire to his study, working independently without anyone needing to bother him, but he knows it’ll be worth it in the end.

With a reluctant sigh, he leaves his room, making his way back to the meeting room.

If he can just get through this afternoon, then the rest of the week will be easier, and if he can just get through this week, Sokka will be back and things will go back to normal.

He hopes, at least.

A small voice in the back of his head tells him that there’s always the possibility Sokka enjoys being back in the South a bit too much, and realises he should’ve moved there, not to the Fire Nation.

Nearly every time Sokka visits home, Zuko worries he won’t come back. It’s irrational, and is disproved every single time, but it doesn’t stop the worry popping up.

Zuko only realises he’s late when he walks into the room and it’s already full, everyone sat around the table save for the more ornate chair saved for Zuko (Zuko _insisted_ that all the chairs should be the same, they should all be on equal standing, but one still ended up with a different design for him).

Everyone stands up as he enters the room, greeting him with a bow.

Zuko sits, waving for the others to join him. After that, the meeting passes in a similar dreary blur to the rest of them, filled with menial matters to solve, significantly less worldly and big picture than the rest of the meetings had been, and mostly focused on immediate, royal matters.

The meeting _sounds_ like it’ll wrap up, what surely must be the last issue resolved, but someone else raises their hand, clearing their throat to begin their point.

“We also have the issue of your sister to discuss, Lord Zuko,” the man says, and it sends a jolt of panic through Zuko.

“My sister?” Zuko asks, positive there had been no mention of Azula for the rest of the meetings, no updates on where she is or sightings of her. He _can’t_ have missed a mention of her.

“Your youngest sister, sir,” the man adds, and the tension (but also brief flicker of hope) drains out of Zuko’s body.

“I see,” Zuko says, “what’s the issue?”

“You wished her to be listed as an official member of the Fire Nation royal family.”

Zuko nods, “Yes.”

“I’d just like to go over some of the specifics of this, in terms of the line of succession. The main being whether or not you’d like the Princess to be considered an heir to the throne, should something happen to you.”

“The throne should go to my uncle if anything were to happen, as you know. But if something were to happen to both of us,” Zuko says, thinking for a moment.

He doesn’t want Kiyi to bear the burden of the throne, but does he have a choice?

Azula hasn’t been seen in years, and even if she had been, Zuko still doesn’t know whether she’d be in a fit state to rule. Beyond her, Zuko, and Iroh, there were no other living members of the royal family.

“Yes, I would like her to be added to the line of succession,” Zuko eventually says, sure that it would never come to that.

At least maybe by having a second person in line for the throne there wouldn’t be as much concern about him having an heir.

“Lord Zuko,” a different official says, one Zuko is less familiar with, standing up, “if I may. I know that the… _Princess_ is your sister, but she is not part of the royal bloodline and I do not think-”

“Kiyi is a direct descendant of Avatar Roku and has already displayed better leadership qualities at the age of nine than my father, grandfather, and great-grandfather combined,” Zuko says.

It’s a stretch, but Zuko knows without a doubt that Kiyi would be a better Fire Lord than any of them, so it’s close enough to the truth.

“And as there is yet to be anyone else of the royal bloodline, she is our only option.”

“Sir, the royal family is important to the people of the Fire Nation and I believe that a _true_ heir is necessary to-”

“What are you implying?” Zuko asks, at the end of his tether with the _comments_ today.

“If you were to have a child…”

“And how do you suggest I do that?”

“There are plenty of Fire Nation women, of _powerful_ bloodlines, that-”

Zuko sighs, because clearly this is becoming an issue. _Twice_ in one day? Is that what is on the minds of his people – when is he going to produce an heir? Get married?

Zuko barely feels like an adult himself, let alone ready to start thinking about _any_ of that.

“This meeting is over. I am not looking to marry at the moment. Kiyi will be added to the line of succession and she will be my heir until _I_ decide to have children of my own,” Zuko says.

The man looks like he wants to say more on the matter, but he decides against it, thank the spirits, and Zuko is quickly left alone in the room again.

He stands up with a sigh, glancing over at the servant stood by the door.

“Tell someone to cancel the rest of my meetings for the day,” Zuko says, “postpone them to later in the week or let them go ahead without me if possible. But don’t postpone to Sunday, that day stays free.”

The servant nods and disappears out the door.

A weight is lifted off of Zuko’s shoulders, but only slightly.

He goes to the nearest bathroom and washes his face, trying to wake himself up a little bit after very nearly falling asleep so many times throughout the day.

He goes back out into the hall, making his way through the palace until he’s leaving, telling a guard where he’s going.

There’s a small argument, Zuko trying to convince the guard that he doesn’t need anyone to come with him, let alone two armed guards. They settle on one guard that stands outside, much to Zuko’s disappointment.

He walks through Caldera, tailed by the guard, then out into the wider city along the well-worn path to the Fire Nation edition of the Jasmine Dragon that his uncle had insisted was essential to the wellbeing of Fire Nation citizens. Zuko couldn’t dispute it, because it meant Iroh would move back to the Fire Nation while someone else would take over the original Jasmine Dragon, which was essential to Zuko’s own wellbeing.

Maybe that's what Iroh meant, after all.

The patrons inside quickly go quiet as soon as Zuko steps into the tea shop, and Zuko wishes he’d changed into someone a little less… _royal_ before coming here.

It’s too late now, and he walks straight to the counter, where Iroh is facing away.

The moment he turns, his face breaks into a big, warm smile.

“Fire Lord Zuko!” Iroh beams, “What an honour.”

Zuko smiles, “Uncle, do you have time to talk?”

“Of course,” Iroh says, “I’ll make us some tea, you head upstairs.”

Zuko nods, going through the back up to Iroh’s apartment above the tea shop.

Zuko had tried to offer him a room in the palace, or at least a house in Caldera so he can be closer by and have something that suits his stature more than just a small apartment.

Iroh, however, resisted, saying he had been happy with his humble life in Ba Sing Se, and would like to continue it in the Fire Nation, and that he’s had enough of living in palaces to last him a lifetime.

Zuko settles into one of the seats at Iroh’s small dining table, feeling ridiculous in his crown and extravagant robes amongst the small, second-hand furniture that Iroh cares for lovingly.

As much as he doesn’t miss serving tea in Ba Sing Se, his time in the city still holds a certain nostalgia in his heart that this apartment brings back, the same furniture and smell of tea steeped into the walls.

“You’re looking tired,” Iroh says from the doorway, a tray of tea in hand.

Zuko can smell the familiar jasmine and already knows Iroh will try and get him to take a nap in the spare room, it happens nearly every time he visits.

Zuko shrugs, “Lots of meetings.”

Iroh raises an eyebrow, setting down the teapot and two cups, sitting down across from Zuko.

“Through the night?”

Zuko gives Iroh a look, “Too much to think about to sleep.”

Iroh hums, pouring out their tea, obviously not believing Zuko. He hands Zuko a cup.

“What’s on your mind?”

Zuko takes a sip of tea, relaxing back into the chair with a sigh.

“It’s something one of my advisors said. A few people have commented on it, now.”

Iroh nods, prompting him to continue.

“About me getting married. And having an heir.”

“Ahhh,” Iroh says, sitting forward with a sympathetic smile, “I should’ve warned you about this. When I was young, before I married, there was lots of pressure on me as the Crown Prince to provide heirs for the nation. The next in line normally marries before they’re Fire Lord, but because you were so young…”

Zuko nods, “My advisor was talking about how good a royal wedding would be for the morale of the people. He implied I find any willing woman and marry her straight away.”

Iroh tuts, shaking his head. “Our ancestors have really left their mark on this nation. There was a time when no Fire Nation citizen would dream of marrying someone for anything other than love. The element of fire comes with a lot of anger and arrogance, but also a lot of passion. We used to be a very loving nation, no matter _who_ you choose to love, it’s sad to see how that’s changed.”

“I got rid of Sozin’s law, but…”

“But my grandfather still left his mark on the world,” Iroh finishes, “I know it’s difficult, who you are being at conflict with the beliefs of many throughout the nation.”

“It’s not just difficult, it’s _impossible_. Everyone’s expecting me to find a wife, have kids, and I don’t…I don’t know what to tell them.”

“The truth is the best option, I think, Zuko.”

“That’s easier said than done. They won’t accept me.”

“Perhaps not,” Iroh muses, “but not everyone will accept everything you do, you know that better than anyone. How many people have disagreed with you since you became Fire Lord?”

“Lots,” Zuko answers simply. He has the scars to prove it.

“This is nothing more than that,” Iroh says, “I know it feels more personal, but you’ve got to treat it as nothing more than a professional disagreement. Perhaps, with time, people will change their view. It’s far more likely if the Fire Lord is leading that change for them.”

“How would I even…that’s not something I can just _announce_ ,” Zuko complains, “I can’t just go out and say ‘hello, people of the Fire Nation, stop asking me to find a wife because I like men’.”

Iroh laughs. “They may start asking you to find a husband, I’m afraid.”

Zuko groans, but at least it doesn’t come with the flinching pain of hearing _wife_. Hearing _husband_ evokes a very different feeling in him, one of hope and… _longing._

“Unfortunately, this is one of those things that comes with being Fire Lord,” Iroh says, “I heard it all until I was married, and then until Lu Ten was born. You should’ve _heard_ everyone’s reactions when we found out we were expecting Lu Ten. I’ve never had so many congratulations in my life.”

Iroh laughs, but Zuko really doesn’t feel laughing along with him. He supposes this is his life now, for the foreseeable future.

“I’m sorry it’s like this, Zuko,” Iroh says, sobering up, “it’s unfair, and you don’t need another burden to shoulder, especially one like this.”

“How do I handle this, uncle?” Zuko asks, ready to ask Iroh to tell everyone for him and then hide in his chambers for a few weeks. “What would you do?”

Iroh rubs his chin, thinking. “Next time someone mentions marriage and you finding a wife, just return it with something about you finding a husband. The more casual you are with it, the less energy you’ll give them to react to it with.”

“Really?” Zuko asks. He can’t imagine it working, but he supposes he doesn’t have much of a choice.

“It’s worth a try,” Iroh says, which doesn’t give Zuko much confidence, “Don’t worry about it too much. _Especially_ don’t lose sleep over it.”

“Uncle, I lose sleep over everything I do.”

Iroh sighs, “I know. You know,” he starts, and Zuko knows exactly what’s coming, “you should have a nap. I’ve got the spare bedroom; you can just lie down for an hour or two.”

“I’ve got more meetings this afternoon,” Zuko lies, knowing it’s the only way to get Iroh off his back.

“Promise me you’ll get some sleep tonight, though? You look exhausted.”

Zuko nods, “I promise I’ll try.”

Iroh sighs, again, weary. “I worry about you. When does Sokka get back from his visit home? He’s the only one that ever gets you to sleep.”

It’s Zuko’s turn to sigh now, more than aware of this fact. “He’ll be back this weekend.”

“Not soon enough, if you ask me.”

“Tell me about it.”

“That boy is good for you, you know,” Iroh says, taking a sip of his tea and giving Zuko a weirdly knowing look that makes him uncomfortable.

“What’s that _look_ for?”

“Nothing,” Iroh says, with a shrug and a smile that says it’s definitely not nothing.

Zuko rolls his eyes, “I’ll leave you to your cryptic looks. I need to get back.”

“You’re sure you can’t stay for a game of Pai Sho?”

“I should really get back,” Zuko says, faux regretfully. The last thing he needs to add to his day is being beaten by his uncle. “But another day, I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Iroh says, standing up to show Zuko out downstairs.

They walk down in silence, but before they go back out to the main floor of the shop, Iroh pulls him into a fierce hug. It surprises Zuko, but he returns it a bit more hesitantly.

He wishes his uncle didn’t have to worry about him, wishes he were better at looking after himself for nothing more than Iroh’s sake.

“I’ll see you later, for Pai Sho,” Iroh says, and Zuko’s already regretting his promise.

“Bye, uncle,” Zuko says, walking back through the – again, silent – shop back outside, where his guard is still waiting.

“Everything okay?” they ask.

“No assassins in the there,” Zuko says, walking off, but making sure to slow down to give the guard enough time to follow.

Back in the palace, he holes himself up in his study, trying to get paperwork done but his mind in distracted, turning over the upcoming – but he doesn’t know _when_ – admission he’ll have to make.

As soon as he’s told a few people, it’ll spread round quickly, which means it’s easier, but also terrifying.

The Fire Nation has been slow to accept him, for an endless number of reasons, and he doesn’t know how him being gay will change that.

He knows it’ll be an important step forward in changing the opinions across the Fire Nation, but the fact that _he_ has to be the one leading that is a terrifying one. Hasn’t he led enough change already to last a lifetime?

The sky darkens quickly, and Zuko – for once – puts his work aside, heading back to his room.

He has to at least _try_ to uphold his promise to his uncle, and he knows he needs sleep tonight otherwise he could start hallucinating again, which _really_ doesn’t help in meetings, even if it does occasionally make them a bit more interesting.

Zuko lights the lanterns on his bedside tables, taking his time to get ready for bed, taking down his top knot and changing into pyjamas and doing some evening meditation to hopefully soothe his restless mind.

It doesn’t do much, really.

His bed is comfortable, but it doesn’t do much to soothe the worry circling through his body, keeping him on edge and keeping sleep at bay. But Zuko persists.

He’d normally give up, settling for reading or working or pestering Sokka, but he knows he needs his mind clear if he’s really going to _do this_ , so he persists.

Eventually, he drifts off into a restless sleep, filled with images of his father spitting harsh words at him; he needs to stop being so _delicate_. No, _Zuko,_ you don’t talk about boys that way, you don’t look at boys that way.

Zuko wakes up early in the morning, only after a few hours sleep, heart racing and vivid images of his hate-filled father directing it all towards him still stuck in his head.

He starts his sunrise exercises early, burning the air around him for hours until he can’t see anything but the flames in front of him.

The day is the same as all the others, and the next, and the next. They all pass uneventfully, with no more mention of Zuko marrying, probably all wary and warned of his reactions to it.

Zuko’s relieved, but his anxiety only increases with each day passing that he doesn’t get it over with, and he doesn’t get any more sleep, afraid to see his father’s face again, knows he’ll lose any confidence he has left if he hears those words out of his mouth again.

He’s starting to think he won’t get a chance before Sokka comes back, which, more than anything, he doesn’t want to happen.

Sokka is his best friend, and he knows nearly everything about him, but not this. He might suspect, Zuko has never actively tried to hide it, but he’s never openly spoken about it.

How can he; Sokka, with women always drooling after him, whoever’s on his arm the envy of the entire world, having had a history with plenty of gorgeous women.

Sokka is what Zuko’s father would’ve wanted from him.

So, he wants to get it over with before Sokka gets back, so he doesn’t have to deal with doing it twice, because he just knows he’ll crumble and ask Sokka for advice.

Zuko’s not sure what things are like in the Southern Water Tribe, but if Sokka looks at him the way other people look at people like Zuko, he doesn’t know what he’d do.

Crumble into nothing, maybe.

His last meeting of the week comes with a lot of nerves, but it passes uneventfully, without a single mention of Zuko’s romantic interests.

After the meeting, Zuko hesitantly agrees to dinner, feeling bad for not showing up for lunch the other day and wanting to make up for it.

He walks with the group to the dining hall, stomach rumbling after not eating properly for a few days (realistically, the last week and a half).

Sat at the table with them all, talking casually and laughing, Zuko feels strange. He normally only sees these people in a professional setting and seeing them more relaxed is bizarre.

“She was gorgeous, I’m telling you,” one of the men is saying, gesticulating wildly, a stark comparison to his much more composed demeanour in meetings, “I’ll marry her if she’ll let me convince her.”

The others all laugh, like old friends, and Zuko feels distinctly like he’s invading on a private conversation, one he shouldn’t be a part of.

“Lord Zuko,” one of the women says, getting the attention of everyone on the table, “may I ask, I was in the meeting the other day – are you really so opposed to marriage?”

Zuko feels himself freeze in panic, Iroh’s advice running through his head. This could be the opportunity he’d been looking for, and he suddenly wishes it hadn’t come.

“I’m not opposed to marriage,” he says, wary of jumping straight into it.

“You seemed pretty opposed to it,” one of the others says, light-hearted and teasing, but Zuko is on high-alert, full of tension.

“I’m just, uh,” Zuko says, fighting through the panic, “not exactly interested in marriage the way people keep suggesting.”

The table quiets, a few eyebrows raised, a few leaning in closer, interested. Zuko thinks he might spontaneously combust if one more person looks at him.

“What do you mean?” the woman asks.

“Well, everyone keeps talking to me about finding a _wife_ , but I’m, uh, not as interested in that.”

Zuko sees as it registers with some of the people round the table, some looks of shock, discomfort, and some indecipherable expressions.

“I’m not sure I understand,” one of them says, and is matched with some nods. Zuko thinks he might throw up in a minute.

“I, uh,” Zuko says, _really_ not knowing where to go with this and wishing he hadn’t said it at all. To insinuate it is one thing, to say it outright _explicitly_ is another thing entirely. “Well, I’m not opposed to marriage,” he reaffirms, “it would just be, uh, marriage with a _man_.”

“ _Oh_.” A new wave passes round the table, and Zuko tries to avoid meeting anyone’s eyes out of fear of he doesn’t know what.

The silence is palpable, deadly, and Zuko needs to leave. He’ll stand up, turn around, and leave. Right _now_.

Zuko takes a breath, about to stand up, when someone else speaks.

“Is there…a particular man?” they ask, face an awkward politeness.

“Not really, there-” Zuko starts, but is quickly interrupted by everyone wanting to throw their opinions in now that the dam has been broken.

“Come on, there _must_ be someone.”

“Oh, tell us who!”

“Is he someone in the Capital? In _Caldera_?”

“You should bring him to meals!”

This conversation is Zuko’s worst nightmare. And, because Zuko is an idiot that only know how to bring himself pain, he panics and says the first thing he can think of to get everyone to stop talking.

“He’s not here,” he says, realising the sheer stupidity of that sentence far too late.

This isn’t just a small, white lie he can let drift off into nothingness. These are people he sees regularly; these are- _Shit_.

Zuko’s made a mistake, but now everyone’s looking at him expectantly, and he can’t just _back track_ , he has to-

“He’s visiting family,” Zuko says, very nearly swearing out loud because _how did he just make it worse_.

He’s been missing Sokka too much and now he’s just gone and told them that the man he’s supposedly _romantically involved with_ is visiting family, coincidentally at the same time as the man that he spends most of his time with, and _everyone at this table works with_ is also visiting family.

Zuko wants to hit himself, or run through a wall, or burst into flames, or _something_ other than be part of this conversation.

Maybe they won’t make the connection, Zuko hopes. People visit family all the time, of course they do. It could be anyone.

“Wait,” one of them says, with a frown that holds Zuko’s hopes in the balance, “isn’t Ambassador Sokka…?”

The table practically _erupts_ , with gasps, whispers, words that Zuko can’t make out and doesn’t want to.

“I’m-” Zuko starts, but doesn’t know how to finish it, “No, of course not. He’s- We aren’t-” Zuko panics and stands up, “I should go,” he says, knowing he should stay and fix this mess, but also knowing if he sits there for a moment longer, he might implode.

He practically runs back to his room, wanting to scream or set something on fire.

Back in his room, he doesn’t do either.

He paces backwards and forwards. He just, essentially, told a reasonably large group that he and Sokka are _dating_. How he managed that, instead of just telling them he’s into men and not women like he was _supposed to_ , he doesn’t know.

Sokka has been gone for not even two weeks, and he’ll be back in a few days. Zuko has screwed up, massively.

He needs to fix this, somehow, before Sokka gets back.

But _how_?

Maybe they’ll realise they were wrong; Zuko didn’t exactly confirm anything. But he did run away, that hardly seems innocent.

_Agni_ , Zuko has fucked up. This’ll ruin his and Sokka’s friendship, he’s sure. Sokka will be disgusted, offended, furious.

Even if he isn’t, even if he just laughs it off, the prospect of the two of them being in a relationship a hilarious one, it’ll still kill Zuko.

He _knows_ Sokka is far too good for him, but it’ll still kill him to hear it from Sokka, too.

He swears, kicking the stool on his dresser a little too hard and sending it flying across the room. He wants to break something.

More than anything, stupidly, he wants to lament to Sokka, as he always does after he makes an idiotic mistake. But he can’t do that, not now, and maybe not every again. _Fuck_.

Zuko digs through his cupboards, finding a bottle of wine and considering it for a moment.

After some contemplation, he puts it back, instead taking out a stronger liquor. _That’ll_ do the job.

He collapses onto his bed, not bothering with a glass, ready to sleep without dreams and forget every possibility of what might happen when Sokka gets home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates will be (hopefully) every friday!


	2. Chapter 2

The light streams in through the window, easily breaking through the thin curtains and illuminating Zuko’s bed with bright rays of sunlight.

He’s surprised; the light means he slept through the night, something he hasn’t done in a long time, and judging by the position of the sun he slept _more_ than just through the night.

Alcohol helps, he guesses.

Not now, though, not with the throbbing behind his eyes and churning in his stomach.

Someone’s banging on his door and it only makes the throbbing worse. Zuko _really_ hopes they’ll go away soon so he doesn’t have to deal with _anything_ today. He’d much rather retreat back under the comfort of his covers and forget about any other responsibilities.

It’s just his luck though, that whoever it is persists, and eventually pushes the door open with a light creak.

“Lord Zuko,” Iroh’s familiar voice says, “this isn’t like you.”

Zuko groans, rolling over onto his right side to block out the world.

“You can’t hide from me,” Iroh says, voice muffled and barely reaching him through the pillow.

“I can,” Zuko says, shoving his face further into the pillow, but Iroh’s voice still reaches him, nonetheless.

“I’ve heard some interesting gossip, this morning,” Iroh says, the mattress shifting next to Zuko as he sits on it.

“What?” Zuko asks, wary, rolling over so he doesn’t have to strain to hear Iroh.

He hopes, more than anything, that Iroh is talking about anything but what Zuko thinks it is. He’d expected at least a _little_ bit more time to be able to fix his mistake before it was spread round the entire nation, but if Iroh knows, he supposes it’s well on its way now. That’ll make it easier to fix.

Iroh meets Zuko’s eyes with a raised eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware you and Sokka were anything more than friends. I can’t say I’m _surprised_ , but I’m hurt that you didn’t-”

“No, no, no,” Zuko hurries to get out, pushing himself upright, and trying to not think too hard about _Iroh not being surprised_ because clearly Iroh still doesn’t know Sokka well enough yet because Sokka is _far_ out of Zuko’s league and they all know it (a small voice in the back of his head tells him that Iroh and Sokka meet up at least weekly to play Pai Sho, he knows him _plenty_ by now).

“We’re _not_ ,” Zuko says, “definitely not. We just- _I_ just. Uh. Made a mistake?”

Iroh frowns. “What kind of mistake?”

“I _tried_ to follow your advice, uncle, I did. But then everyone started to make _assumptions_ and it was just so easy to-”

“Tell them that you’re in a relationship with your friend?” Iroh asks, not unkindly.

“No, just- that I’m in a relationship. They made the rest of the assumptions, and I didn’t exactly…correct them.”

Zuko wants to hit himself reliving it. How could he have been such an _idiot_? He didn’t think it was possible to make a mistake like this, but he surprises himself every day.

Iroh nods slowly, humming slightly in thought. “What does that say about your relationship with Sokka?”

“What- I- nothing!” Zuko squeaks.

What does _that_ mean? It doesn’t mean _anything_ about his and Sokka’s friendship. It was a simple, stupid mistake. _Nothing more._

Judging by Iroh’s face, he doesn’t believe him.

“If you’re so quick to let people believe this about you two, then-”

“No, I- it _doesn’t mean_ _anything_! It was just…I panicked. I took the easy route of shutting up and letting them think what they want.”

Annoyingly, Iroh still doesn’t look convinced, and Zuko fights hard against the blush rising to his cheeks because this is _not_ something he needs to be confronting right now, he needs to be _solving the problem_ , not making new ones.

“Uncle, what do I _do_?”

“I think you need to correct yourself before this goes too far,” Iroh says, “Sokka comes home tomorrow, yes?”

Zuko nods, with a wince at the thought of Sokka getting back to this mess.

“Then I’d suggest you find a way to sort the matter out before he does.”

“But I- _ugh_ ,” Zuko groans, to get the tangle that is his hair out of his face, “uncle, how do I always manage this? Why can I never just…do the _right_ thing.”

“You do the right thing every day, Zuko,” Iroh says, “it’s far easier to see the bad, no matter how little, than to acknowledge all the good. Especially when you hold such a negative view of yourself.”

“I don’t-” Zuko starts, stopping as soon as he gets a _don’t even try_ look from Iroh.

“It’s been nearly 10 years since you were banished. You’ve changed so much in that time, Zuko, but your opinion of yourself very little, in comparison. You’re still blind to all the good you’ve caused in the world.”

“But what about everything I haven’t been able to do?” Zuko asks, “my nation is still struggling, there’s still people that believe we were on the right side of the war. There’s so many changes that need to be made-”

“Zuko,” Iroh interrupts, “it’s not all down to you to make the Fire Nation perfect and fix all the mistakes of your ancestors. Our nation was far from perfect even before Sozin’s time, and this damage was done over a hundred years. You can’t fix it in seven.”

“Surely I should’ve gotten further than _this_ ,” Zuko says, thinking about the endless meetings about their economic struggles, rebuilding the nation, rebuilding the _other_ nations, and that’s just the easy, quantifiable stuff, there’s still the problems of the corrupted education and governing, the way their culture has been manipulated and warped, stripped of many joys and traditions that used to be at the heart of their nation, and are now barely remembered.

So many things Zuko’s barely even _touched_ on as a leader, so many things he still needs to work on.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. Think about how far you’ve come. Before your coronation, the Fire Nation was bitter and corrupted, with colonies all over, fighting an endless war and about to wipe out the Earth Kingdom. Now, we are in a peaceful time, with all of the nations being rebuilt, and a _new_ nation founded where people from all over can live in harmony. I would say you’ve done some good, Zuko.”

“The Air Temples aren’t being rebuilt; the Air Nomads are still all but extinct.”

“ _Zuko_. You can’t take that burden on, too.”

“Sozin nearly wiped them out, and Roku was the reason he could, that _is_ my burden, more than anyone else. I carry it in my blood.”

“There’s nothing you can do. It’s a tragedy what happened to the Air Nomads, but nothing more can be done. I’m sure Avatar Aang and Katara will work on that, in their own time.”

Zuko pulls a face. _That’s_ not what he was getting at and definitely not something he wants to think about. At all. Ever.

“Exactly,” Iroh says in response to the face, “it’s none of our business. Unless you’re going to tell the Avatar and his wife to start-”

“No, no, no,” Zuko says. He knows that Aang and Katara are more than likely to have kids someday, but at the moment they’re nineteen and twenty-one. He’s _not_ about to bring any of that up. He still sees them as kids, a younger brother and sister that he would never _dream_ of doing _anything that would result in children._ “I get it, I get it. No more talking about it. Please.”

Iroh laughs. “I’ll give you half an hour to get dressed and…freshen up. Then we’re going for breakfast.”

“I’m not-”

“You need to eat, Zuko. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that empty bottle next to your bed. The best thing for a hangover is a nice, hearty breakfast,” Iroh says, slipping back out of the room carefully, “half an hour!” he calls out behind him, closing the door.

Zuko groans but forces himself out of bed. He supposes he has to face the day at some point or another, whether he likes it or not.

Maybe things won’t be as bad as he thinks, and Iroh is just weirdly aware of all the palace gossip.

Maybe.

Zuko takes his time washing and dressing, enjoying the time on his own before he has to face the rest of the palace.

When he was just the prince, he’d have servants helping him with anything and everything, including putting his robes and armour on each day, and doing his hair.

When he returned to the Fire Nation and had his coronation, it didn’t feel right anymore. Maybe it was after living in a tent for weeks and slumming it with the rest of team avatar, or maybe it was seeing first-hand how everyone was suffering from the war (far more first-hand when he was part of team avatar than he ever saw when he was hunting them), or maybe it was because his days were so full of other people, it was nice to have the time to himself (except when Sokka was there, bored and desperate for company and attention; Zuko was always happy to let him in), to have such a small, simple responsibility compared to the colossal ones he faced on the daily.

Once he’s dressed, his top knot fixed perfectly under his crown, Zuko takes a moment to watch himself in the mirror, bracing for the day.

He does look tired, unscarred eye ringed with dark, bruised skin, the rest of his face tight and pale.

He’ll sleep properly at some point. When this problem is solved. When Sokka is back, and Zuko knows for certain that he hasn’t ruined everything between them. Then, he’ll rest.

He takes a deep breath, leaving his chambers and heading down to meet Iroh.

He expects them to go to the dining hall and eat there, but Iroh must know better. He knows how Zuko’s nerves will be; worrying about what everyone will be saying about him and Sokka and only making him want to confront the mistake less.

So, instead, he takes him out of the palace, to one of the few small restaurants inside Caldera City.

Zuko starts to think, _maybe_ , he’s gotten away with it. No one seems to be saying anything in the few words he exchanges around the palace on their way out, maybe it’ll drift away like a bad rumour and Sokka will never have to know.

“Lord Zuko, General Iroh,” one servant says with a bow as he and Iroh pass, “All the preparations have been made for Ambassador Sokka’s return tomorrow. Are there any specifics requests you’d like to add?”

On the surface, it seems like a normal question. But Zuko knows.

Sokka travels fairly frequently, and no one has _ever_ asked him something like this.

Zuko _knows_ , and it settles like a pit in his stomach. The news has spread round the palace, of course it has, if not even further than that.

His mistake has taken root, festering and growing and Zuko knows it’ll only get worse with every moment that passes where he doesn’t say anything about it.

Iroh gives him a look, waiting for him to answer, to make a correction to at least attempt to start fixing his mistake.

“No, that won’t be necessary,” Zuko says, “thank you.”

Iroh all but rolls his eyes as they walk away.

When they get to the restaurant, it isn’t busy, but there’s enough people that it makes Zuko nervous.

_Everyone_ here could know. They’ll all either already hate him for being gay or will be soon to hate him as soon as he comes out and admits that he lied about him and Sokka.

They sit down at a table by the window, picking up and perusing the familiar menu – being in Caldera, it’s one of the few places Zuko doesn’t have a guard following him around everywhere, making it a more frequent visit than restaurants further out.

It makes his world small and Zuko hates ruling his nation from the palace city, but sometimes it’s just easier that way, at least for the stress levels of the people in charge of his safety.

At least he doesn’t have the embarrassment of Suki and Ty Lee following his every move anymore, like he did in the first year or two of his rule back when there was an assassination attempt practically every other day.

Zuko orders a small dish, much to Iroh’s disappointment. Zuko’s pretty sure almost everyone in his life will start force-feeding him soon (another reason Suki and Ty Lee returning to the Earth Kingdom was a good thing, because they noticed his lack of eating almost as much as Sokka did – but weren’t quite as vocal about it as Sokka is).

Luckily, beyond a disapproving look, Iroh doesn’t say anything about it.

He gives Zuko a lot more freedom to make his own mistakes, probably after years of having to watch him make _far_ worse mistakes, these seem like nothing in comparison.

His new friends, however, expect nothing but the best from Zuko, and won’t hesitate to make sure they get it. It’s exhausting, but nice, knowing they care.

As frustrating as it is being dragged to bed each night and forced to sit down in front of food he doesn’t want, knowing that someone cares enough (after years of _you’re lucky I didn’t kill you at birth_ ) to look out for him like that is comforting.

He wishes he could return the favour, show his friends how much he cares about them, too, but more often than not they’re all far more together than he is, and the opportunity never arises.

“You seem deep in thought,” Iroh comments after they’ve been given their food.

“Mm,” Zuko hums, poking the food around his plate with his fork. His stomach is still tossing and turning, unsettled and _very_ unhappy about the prospect of eating anything. He forces a mouthful in anyway, knowing Iroh wouldn’t remain passive for long otherwise. “You know me. Dwelling on my mistakes.”

“Stop overthinking it,” Iroh says.

“How can I not? I’ve potentially ruined the best thing in my life and there’s nothing I or anyone can _do_ about it,” Zuko snaps, frustration bubbling up.

He immediately regrets it, both for snapping at his uncle, and for saying _that_.

He knows it’s true, that Sokka’s friendship is the main thing keeping him going at the moment.

Through no fault of their own, all his other friends are particularly busy with their own lives (mostly helping out around the United Republic, trying to stabilise things, something that is very much _Zuko’s_ responsibility as one of the main reasons the nation exists, but with him being busy in the Fire Nation, the responsibility falls to everyone else) and Zuko doesn’t get to see them as frequently as he’d like.

So, Sokka is the main person in Zuko’s life, and the one thing keeping him together. It still makes Zuko blush though, admitting it like this.

“You haven’t ruined a thing,” Iroh says, “Sokka cares about you too much to let something like this ruin it. Would you give up on your friendship if he’d done the same?”

“No, but-” _I wouldn’t mind if he had._ It’s clear to anyone with a brain that Sokka is far out of Zuko’s league, and he’d be lucky to be seen as his partner for any brief amount of time.

That’s what Zuko tells himself, at least, that it has everything to do with being associated with Sokka being a good thing, and nothing to do with the way Sokka’s made his heart flutter ever since they were just clueless teenagers messing around with swords in the Western Air Temple. Not that he’d ever admit that to himself. Sokka is just attractive and funny and fun to be around, so Zuko was nervous trying to be his friend.

That’s _all_.

“But nothing. Sokka is an understanding man.”

“But-”

“Zuko.”

Iroh looks like he’s about to chastise Zuko further, but they’re luckily saved by the chef approaching their table.

Zuko keeps his triumphant look hidden from his uncle.

“Lord Zuko, General Iroh, it’s always an honour to have you dine here,” the chef says, with a respectful bow.

“Please, the honour is all ours. Your food is delicious! I wish it were this good in the palace,” Iroh laughs, immediately switching to his polite, happy talking-to-strangers voice, while Zuko is still trying to break out of his brooding.

He has to stop himself from pointing out that the palace chefs are just as talented, because he knows Iroh’s flattery enough by now that he’s just being polite, rather than wholeheartedly genuine.

The chef smiles, “You’re too kind, really. I hope everything’s to your liking, I came over to see if there was anything else that I could do for you. Any personal requests?”

“Everything’s perfect,” Zuko says, and Iroh nods in agreement.

“Perfect, indeed,” he adds.

“I’m glad to hear it,” the chef says, “I also wanted to congratulate you, Lord Zuko, on the news about you and Ambassador Sokka. You two make a wonderful couple. I know a lot of people in the Fire Nation might not be so…welcoming of a relationship… _like that_ , but I want you to know my doors always remain open to the two of you. The best table in the house will always be available for any dates.”

Zuko can feel Iroh’s eyes boring into him.

This is an opportunity to correct himself, to start the slow and painful process of moving on from the lie, but…the chef is being so nice about it, and Zuko can practically _feel_ it, the potential for the shift in people’s attitudes this could cause.

Even if it’s just a small step in the right direction, it’s something, isn’t it? If people are standing up for him like this, how can he go back and tell them he lied?

“Thank you, that’s very kind,” Zuko says, “you’ll always be our first choice.”

The chef smiles and bows again, then leaves without another word.

Zuko tries to avoid meeting Iroh’s eyes, knowing the disappointment he’ll see in them already and not needing to actually see it, too.

“Zuko,” he says, simply, and it’s enough.

“I’m sorry, uncle,” Zuko breaks, meeting his eyes. He was right. “I couldn’t do it…my people, they’re _finally_ starting to trust me. How can I tell them I’ve broken that? Especially when they’re…standing up for me like this? I might be _finally_ undoing some of the damage Sozin did.”

There’s also a selfish part to it, underneath that, because people think he’s with _Sokka_. It’s hard to want to correct that.

“I know, Zuko, and it can be exciting making change, but you’re bringing Sokka into this without his permission.”

“Uncle-”

“You need to come clean, before Sokka comes home tomorrow. It’s not fair to bring him into this.”

Zuko sighs, “I know.”

He doesn’t want Iroh to be right, wants to keep continuing as if he hasn’t done anything wrong for at least a _little_ bit longer.

But he is right, and it’s not fair to do this to Sokka.

Even though Sokka isn’t in a relationship at the moment, from his past relationships Zuko knows he’s very much interested in women, and it isn’t fair to force people to think otherwise of him. It’s not fair to force him into any of this. Zuko needs to correct himself, somehow. Iroh’s right, unfortunately.

They finish the rest of their meal and, at the first available opportunity, Zuko runs away to hide in his study. He has plenty of paperwork to sort through, but he also needs to _think_.

He closes the door to his study and the click as it shuts behind him brings a simultaneous wave of relief and panic. Relief at being alone, away from the knowing looks and prying eyes, panic at having to figure out _what on earth he’s going to do now._

Zuko paces the room, back and forth, covering the short length over and over. Sokka gets back sometime tomorrow, most likely in the afternoon.

Zuko has a little over twenty-four hours to fix this.

The simplest solution is to call a meeting, tell them he made a mistake and they misunderstood what he meant, that he and Sokka have no romantic involvement, end of.

It _should_ be that easy.

Everyone that had been at the meal yesterday lives either in Caldera or close by in the outer city. If he called a meeting, it could be over and done with within the hour. It’s that easy, really.

However, every time Zuko gets the nerve up, grabbing the door handle to go and set up a meeting, something stops him.

He doesn’t _want_ to do this.

Logically, he’s worried about the backlash of lying to his people, but deeper under that, there’s something else.

He’s spent over a decade ashamed of who he is, afraid that he’ll never be able to live out his life with someone he loves, not the way most people do. The past day, despite the stress of it all, has had a strange comfort to it.

Getting to pretend, even for just brief moments at a time, that Zuko’s in a happy relationship – with someone like _Sokka_ , no less – brings him a joy he never thought he’d be able to feel.

He wants to hold onto it, just for that little bit longer, live on in his delusion for as long as possible before it all comes crashing down around him.

Iroh’s still right, unfortunately, and Zuko knows he needs to fix it before Sokka comes home tomorrow.

But what’s stopping him from having today, at least? He’ll call a meeting tomorrow morning and fix it then.

There’ll be plenty of time before Sokka gets home, and he gets one more day to pretend. It’s a win-win situation (not really).

Sure, it would make more sense to get it over with as soon as possible to give the news time to die down before Sokka’s back, but Zuko’s never had the most sense in the world.

Zuko tries to put thoughts of it all out of his head, sitting down at his desk and staring at the pile of paperwork he _should_ be working on.

It’s difficult though; his mind is unsettled, restless, still thinking about everything going on with Sokka.

Even though he’s now resolved to sort it out tomorrow morning, it’s still weighing on him. The _what if’s_ : what if it all goes wrong, what if Sokka hates him, what if Zuko’s made the worst mistake of his life (okay, that’s more of a stretch - Zuko’s made _a lot_ of mistakes in his life, but that doesn’t stop this one from feeling just as high stakes).

The paperwork gets pushed to the side, in favour of something Zuko likes to pull out when he feels like torturing himself. It’s the only thing that can ever distract him from whatever his mind is stuck on, even if he ends up in a worse state because of it.

He pulls out the small folder, tucked full of notes Zuko’s collected over the years, and lays it out across the table.

_Azula’s file_.

Ever since she disappeared after the Kemurikage incident, Zuko had been trying and failing to keep tabs on her. He’d send people looking out for her, endlessly, with very little in return.

The folder was full of notes he’d gotten about suspected sightings, small sketches of potential-Azulas, but none of them were her. Zuko knew it. She’d disappeared off the face of the earth, well and truly.

Even if he did find out where she was, Zuko doesn’t know what he’d do about it.

More than anything, he wants to know that she’s okay. That’s all that matters, really.

The last few times he’s seen her, she wasn’t well and Zuko could see how much she was struggling. He thought he’d been doing the right thing, sending her to the asylum instead of prison like their father, he thought they’d be able to _help_ her.

But seeing her like that…she was only worse off, and Zuko knew it was his fault. He should’ve done _something_ , anything. Helped her, somehow. And now she was gone, unable to be found, and he couldn’t do a single thing.

Zuko flicks through the drawings of women, similar to Azula, his heart aching to find her.

He misses her, from way before things got bad. Before he was banished, before their mother left, before their parents’ bitter marriage reflected onto their own relationship, driven by the competitive need to prove themselves to their father.

They used to be friends, to play together, making up silly games like all kids do. Zuko used to show Azula firebending moves she hadn’t learnt yet, and vice versa once she started to overtake him.

After that, things started to go downhill. He was pushed to their mother by their father’s disgust for him, and she was pushed to their father by his expectations and their mother’s neglect.

He’d spoken to Katara about his search for Azula. He knew that she and Sokka, more than any of their sibling-less friends, would understand the difficulty he was facing.

Of course, Aang would want to see the good in Azula, but he still wouldn’t understand what it’s like.

Zuko wanted to tell Sokka about it, too, but he was afraid that maybe he _wouldn’t_ understand and would cling to the idea that Azula is evil and needs to be stopped, found for nothing but to be captured. Zuko _knew_ deep down that Sokka wouldn’t, but he was still too afraid to bring it up.

He was used to Katara’s disapproval at this point and wasn’t afraid to argue with her about Azula. Even though Katara had seen her coldness far closer than any of the others, she’d also seen the torment inside Azula up close.

She’d understood, and she’d helped Zuko, but there’s only so much anyone can do. She’s been keeping an eye out for her in Republic City and the rest of the United Republic in her and Aang’s travels, but there hadn’t been much progress.

Zuko doubted she’d leave the Fire Nation, but he’s not really sure about anything about Azula, anymore.

He puts everything back into the folder, closing it up and slipping it back into his desk drawer.

Azula, despite being a constant stress in the back of his mind, is the least of his worries at the moment and there’s no point dwelling. He needs to get some paperwork done today if he wants tomorrow free to see Sokka (and to tell his people he’s a liar).

So, he drags the paperwork back out across the desk and gets started on it. His mind is distracted, but he forces himself to focus.

Eventually, through the numb monotony of endless signatures and filing, thoughts of Sokka and Azula drift away, becoming part of the endless noise of all the different stresses in Zuko’s life. They’re still there, but it’s tolerable. Zuko can manage, for now. Until tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sokka in next chapter, i promise!
> 
> (updates every friday!)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (content warnings in end notes)

There’s no knock, the door just flies open and suddenly the room is so filled with _Sokka_ , and Zuko can hardly even process what’s going on because _Sokka’s here early_. He’s talking, throwing some bags down by the door (did he come _directly here_?). Zuko has _no_ idea what he’s saying because he’s simultaneously relieved by Sokka’s presence – the light and _life_ finally returning to the palace – and wracked with stress because he’s here a day early and everyone still thinks that they’re a couple and that means he needs to _tell_ Sokka, right now, as soon as possible, and Sokka could hate him.

“You look awful, Zuko,” Sokka says, sitting on Zuko’s desk, right on top of the paperwork he’d been working on.

Zuko frowns but doesn’t find it in himself to care. He’s looked in a mirror.

“Have you been sleeping?” Sokka asks, “Eating?”

He reaches across and grabs Zuko’s chin, lightly, tilting it up so he can look at his face better. Zuko freezes, the cool touch of Sokka’s skin nearly enough to send him into cardiac arrest, because apparently two weeks is enough to forget about Sokka’s constant casual touch and affection. Not that Zuko ever got used to it, really, still going into a panic every time Sokka would casually reach over and push his hair out of the way for him or grab his arm to emphasise a particularly important talking point.

“You really look like you need it,” Sokka says, still holding Zuko’s chin and he’s really not going to be able to speak until he lets go.

Luckily, his hand drops a moment later, and the breath rushes back into Zuko’s lungs. He shakes his head. “I’m fine, really.”

Sokka doesn’t look convinced. “When did you last eat?”

“Uh…” Zuko really can’t remember. It _could’ve_ been today. Maybe? He counts back, trying to remember, but all the days have mostly blurred into one.

“See, that’s something you should be able to _answer_ ,” Sokka says, rolling his eyes and standing up, grabbing Zuko’s hand and trying to pull him up in the process. Zuko tries, feebly, to resist. “I’m taking you to get some dinner, _now_.”

“No, wait. I went for breakfast this morning.”

Sokka still doesn’t look impressed. “Iroh?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t care. You’re still coming to dinner.”

“I should get some more work done,” Zuko says, only partly because it’s the truth, mostly because (as much as he wants to desperately, painfully, spend time with Sokka) he doesn’t want to have confront his mistake. He wants to keep his and Sokka’s friendship for a least a _little_ longer.

“No, no way,” Sokka says, pulling harder until Zuko gives in and stands up. “We’re eating, now, come on.”

“I’m not hungry,” Zuko lies, though he doesn’t really feel like eating.

Judging by the look Sokka gives him, he doesn’t believe it for a minute. “Well, I am, and I don’t want to eat alone. So, it’s your duty, as my _friend_ , and as the _Fire Lord_ , to keep me company.”

Zuko narrows his eyes at him, “You’re manipulative.”

“And you’re the most difficult person in the world to look after,” Sokka retorts with a smile, dragging Zuko away from his desk and out into the hall. It’s a long, painful moment before Sokka drops Zuko’s hand and Zuko really doesn’t want to confront the way it makes his heart clench in his chest.

“Okay, I need to ask you something,” Sokka says after barely two seconds of silence. Zuko’s missed it. He hardly has to be alone with his thoughts for even a second when Sokka’s around.

“Mmm?” Zuko tries not to make the instant wave of anxiety too obvious in his expression.

“So, I just got here so I haven’t seen many people yet,” Sokka says, “but everyone I have seen has been _so_ weird.”

Oh, _no_. “Weird how?”

“Like…looking at me in weird ways. Like I’m covered in Appa’s snot and have no idea. I’m not, am I? Have I got something stuck on me?” Sokka asks, stepping ahead of Zuko and doing a full spin, arms out. Zuko looks him up and down to humour him, knowing the reason _definitely_ isn’t anything like that. Either way, he’s not about to complain. He can’t deny Sokka’s attractive and watching him turn around with an excuse to look unabashedly isn’t exactly a bad thing. Zuko found him attractive enough as a scrawny, hyperactive fifteen-year-old. Now, though, he’s fleshed out and stronger than Zuko could ever hope to be. Sure, Zuko’s muscled up with age and training, too, but his slim stature has nothing on Sokka’s Water Tribe genes.

“Nope, nothing,” Zuko says, looking back up to Sokka’s face and hoping his cheeks aren’t as red as they feel.

“It’s weird,” Sokka says, “someone said something about you, too.”

Oh, _no, no, no._

“They asked me if I was coming in to see you. Which, like, obviously I am, who else would I be coming to see? Normally I just get a nod and ‘good evening Ambassador Sokka’, but this time they were like, ‘Lord Zuko’s in his study, I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you’.”

“Weird,” Zuko chokes out. This has gotten out of hand; he _needs_ to tell Sokka the truth.

“Have you really made it that obvious to everyone how much you missed me?” Sokka asks with a wink and a gentle nudge with his elbow.

“Yeah, uh, something like that.”

Someone rounds the corner and they both go quiet. Just some official, someone working late. Zuko braces himself, _praying_ they don’t say anything or know anything. But, as they get closer, Zuko recognises them from the meal where he ruined everything, and he tries not to swear under his breath.

“Lord Zuko, Ambassador Sokka,” the person nods, with a knowing smile that makes Zuko feel ill, “good to see you two together again.”

Well, it could’ve been worse, but that doesn’t mean Zuko still doesn’t want to turn and run.

“Good to see you, too,” Sokka smiles, with a polite nod, but Zuko can feel the confused question ready to burst out of him.

They get past them, and Zuko _thinks_ they’re in the clear, but then-

“Have fun tonight, you two!” they call out behind them, and Zuko’s heart stops. He regrets insisting on a less formal relationship around the palace.

“What in Tui’s name did _that_ mean?” Sokka asks, far too loud.

“I, uh, don’t know?” Zuko offers, not even sounding convincing to his own ears. Sokka gives him a sceptical look but, thankfully, doesn’t question it further.

They walk in silence to the dining hall, where Sokka makes Zuko sit and wait while he goes and talks to one of the chefs. Zuko waits anxiously, lighting and relighting the lantern in the centre of the table in a failed attempt to soothe his nerves. Sokka comes back a few minutes later, sitting down with a frown on his face. Zuko thinks he might vomit.

“So, uh, I think we need to talk,” Sokka says, and Zuko’s _really_ going to vomit. This is it. The end of their friendship. Zuko barely survived two weeks without him, how’s he going to survive _forever_? Sure, he managed the first sixteen years, but he didn’t have to be _Fire Lord_ then. Maybe if Zuko runs away, Sokka will forget.

“W- why?” Zuko asks, hesitant, praying to any spirit that’s listening that Sokka wants to talk about _anything_ else in the world.

“So, the chef just told me that we’re a very handsome couple,” Sokka says, “which is an awfully nice thing to say, but, uh. We’re not a couple. So, I was wondering how…”

“Sokka, I’m sorry,” Zuko blurts out.

“…she got that idea,” Sokka finishes. “What’s going on, Zuko? Is this why everyone’s been treating me weirdly?”

“I screwed up,” Zuko admits, “I made a _stupid_ mistake, and now…I don’t know. I didn’t know how to fix it. And I’m sorry, I just- _please_ don’t be mad at me, I didn’t mean to-” the lantern on the table flares, flames jumping up, but Sokka barely reacts to it other than a quick glance, followed by a reassuring hand on Zuko’s wrist.

“Zuko, relax, I’m not mad about anything. What happened?”

“It’s a…long story.”

“We have time.”

Zuko had hoped he wouldn’t say that.

“People have been on my back lately. About things, like…getting married. Like, finding a _wife_. And having kids. Heirs.”

Sokka frowns. “That’s hardly anyone’s problem to worry about but yours.”

“Exactly!” Zuko agrees, relieved with Sokka’s support but still dreading what’s to come. He doesn’t know how Sokka will react to _any_ of it, but despite his idiotic mistake, he finds himself worrying the most about his reaction to _who_ Zuko is. He’s sure Sokka’s not biased like that, wouldn’t harbour any bad feelings towards Zuko for being gay, but…he can never be too sure.

“I wanted to explain to them,” Zuko continues, pushing down the nausea, “that I’m not exactly…looking for a wife.”

“Well, obviously, you’re twenty-three,” Sokka says, “you’ve got plenty of time before you even need to start _thinking_ about settling down.”

“Well, yeah, but I’d also, uh- when it comes to it, I wouldn’t be looking for a _wife_ , more a…husband?”

Sokka eyes widen a miniscule amount, small enough to miss it if you didn’t know him as well as Zuko does. He covers up his shock well, but Zuko still sees it.

“So, uh,” Zuko continues, somewhat put off by the covered-up reaction. _Not_ what he was expecting. “You know what the laws used to be like here, for same-sex relationships. And I’ve changed things, but…attitudes don’t change that easily.”

Sokka nods, his focus intimidatingly narrowed down on Zuko.

“But I needed a way to get people off my back, and my uncle said that if anyone could trigger an attitude change, it would be the Fire Lord. So, I had to tell people.”

“Zuko, that’s a horrible position to be put in,” Sokka says.

“I know,” Zuko says, with a shrug, “but someone has to start a change, right?”

Sokka’s frown shows exactly what he thinks of that.

“I was having dinner after a meeting, and I _tried_ to tell them all, but it just…came out wrong, and they all thought I was _dating_ someone and then someone guessed it was _you_ and I didn’t exactly…do a good job of saying otherwise. And then I, sort of, hid in my room and didn’t talk to anyone. And the rumours spread. And now…”

“Everyone thinks we’re a couple,” Sokka finishes, his expression not giving away much. He stays silent after that, deep in thought, and Zuko might scream if he doesn’t say something soon. It’s torture, not knowing what Sokka’s thinking, while their friendship hangs in the balance.

“Listen, I-” Zuko starts, not really knowing where he’s going with it, but as soon as Sokka meets his eyes he knows he needs to say _something_ , anything to fix this mess he’s gotten himself into. “I’m sorry I didn’t correct them, I should’ve, and it was wrong. I didn’t _think_. I just…I didn’t know what to do. _Haven’t_ known what to do for the last couple of days. I spent _so long_ building up my nation’s trust again once I became Fire Lord, and now…I’ve gone and lied to everyone. I’m a _joke_ , I-”

The door to the kitchens opens and Zuko quickly shuts up, the chef coming through holding two dishes on one arm and two glasses of wine in her other hand. She comes over and sets them down in front of each of them with a smile. “I hope this is your liking,” she says with a nod, “I brought through some plum wine, too, I thought if this is a date-”

Sokka nods, “Thank you, that’s perfect.” Zuko’s mind goes blank. Why didn’t Sokka correct her?

The two of them both watch as the chef leaves again, and as soon as the door has swung shut behind her, they both turn to one another.

“Why did you-” Zuko starts.

“Listen, Zuko,” Sokka says, taking both of his hands. His heart jumps in his throat. “You said something stupid, I get that.”

“You’re not mad?”

“What?” Sokka says, frowning, “Of course I’m not mad. Why would I be mad?”

Zuko opens and closes his mouth, not really knowing how to answer. _Because everyone gets mad?_

“I think this is important,” Sokka says, “because I care about your reputation. I don’t want you to have to work to get back to the position you’re in with your people now. Seven years of work is…y’know. I don’t want to put you through that again.”

“But what-”

“Just, listen,” Sokka interrupts, squeezing Zuko’s hands, “It’s important too, what you said about changing people’s attitudes. In the South, people don’t really care about this stuff. You love who you love, you know? You’re you, no matter what.” So that explains Sokka’s reaction. “So, I’m thinking…what’s the harm? If people think we’re dating for a bit, it’s not the end of the world. You don’t have to tell everyone you… _misled_ them. And you get to take that step in changing attitudes, without having it being a burden on an actual relationship whenever it comes to that.”

Zuko doesn’t understand what he’s saying. “So, you mean…?”

“We can fake it, for a little bit, can’t we? For the sake of your reputation, and, you know, changing attitudes. All that,” Sokka says, a slight pink shining through his dark cheeks.

“I, uh.” Zuko doesn’t know what to think. Pretending to be in a relationship…with _Sokka_. How would they…how would that _even_ …

“We don’t have to,” Sokka says, slipping into his habit of nervous rambling. Why is _he_ nervous? “If you’d rather, just, go for it, I get it. If it’s weird, and you don’t want to. That’s fine, too. I mean, like, it could be weird. It’d be weird, wouldn’t it? Never mind, forget I said anything. It’s- yeah. Forget I said anything.”

“No, no,” Zuko says, strangely panicked at Sokka’s backtracking, “you’re right. This is probably a good idea, right? I mean…yeah. This could work?”

“Yeah,” Sokka agrees, a wide smiling breaking through his nervous frown, “yeah, this could work. We spend pretty much all our time together anyway, how hard could it to be to pretend we’re dating through that?”

“Yeah, right,” Zuko agrees, with a bit less certainty than Sokka. “But you’re not…you don’t mind if people think that you’re, you know…”

“That I like guys?” Sokka asks, and Zuko has to painfully nod, “Zuko, come on, don’t tell me you thought I just liked girls.”

“Well, I thought…”

“You’ve _heard_ the way I talk about guys.”

Zuko thinks, and yeah, Sokka’s always the first to vocalise how attractive a man is, but Zuko had always been too focused on his own embarrassment to consider what that _meant_ for Sokka’s sexuality. Sokka’s…into guys. Too. Zuko doesn’t know what to think. Doesn’t know what he _wants_ to think. Sokka’s attractive and into guys and Zuko’s best friend and currently suggesting they pretend to be in a relationship. Zuko really doesn’t know how to even begin processing this information.

“I guess I…didn’t think.”

“Trust me, if people think I can get _Fire Lord Zuko_ , I’m not about to start complaining.”

“What…does that mean?”

“Come _on_ , Zuko. You’re not that clueless, are you?” Sokka asks, almost genuine concern on his face.

“What?”

“ _Look_ at you. Have you seen yourself?”

“Uh. Yes?” Zuko really still doesn’t understand what Sokka’s getting at.

“La, you’re ridiculous,” Sokka sighs, “eat something, then I’ll explain.”

Zuko would fight back in any other scenario, but the food does smell _good_ , and more than anything he wants to know _what_ Sokka means. “I think it’s illegal to blackmail the Fire Lord,” he says around a mouthful of food, “if it’s not, I’m making it.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Sokka says with a stern point, digging into his own meal. “Next thing you’ll be making sleep illegal.”

Zuko pulls a face. “I don’t _hate_ sleep.”

“No, of course, you just hate switching yourself off for that many hours. Spirits _forbid_ the Fire Lord relax.”

Zuko sits back, crossing his arms. “I can relax.”

“I’ll believe _that_ when I see it.”

“Whatever. I’m holding up my end of the deal, your turn,” Zuko says, glancing at his food, continuing eating with a Look from Sokka.

“You’re really telling me I need to explain this? I’ve really got to spell it out for you?” Sokka asks, maddeningly.

“I guess so!” Zuko says, “Just _tell_ me.”

“Zuko,” Sokka says, serious. “You’re…” he sighs, like he can’t quite find the words. “You’re…Just…look at you, I mean, _look_ at you,” Sokka says, flustered, confidence dipping.

“What does that _mean_?” Zuko says, raising his voice.

“I don’t know!” Sokka matches Zuko’s volume, cheeks red for a reason Zuko can’t figure out, and it only infuriates him more.

“Tell me.”

“No,” Sokka says, now avoiding Zuko’s eyes, “it doesn’t matter, ignore me.”

“Sokka, I- what?”

“Eat,” Sokka says, Zuko’s pausing not slipping past him easily. Zuko sighs, going back to the food. He knows Sokka, and he knows he’s not getting an answer out of him now. When he gets like this, weirdly flustered and closed off, it means he doesn’t want to talk. _Especially_ when he throws in distraction tactics like forcing Zuko to eat.

“You’re annoying, you know,” Zuko says.

“Yeah, well, so are you,” Sokka retorts, but he’s smiling. Zuko still notices his nervous fiddling with the edge of the placemat under his plate.

“How was your visit home?” Zuko asks, knowing that Sokka needs a distraction from _whatever_ he’s thinking about.

Sokka drops the placemat, beaming, and Zuko feels a swell of pride at knowing _he_ brought that smile out. “It was good. So good. It’s still so weird, the South being so different. I mean, you saw what we were like, you know…when you attacked.”

Zuko pulls a face, the corners of his mouth turning down and eyebrow pulling in. He does _not_ like to be reminded that that’s how he and three of his best friends first met. By him attacking them.

“Don’t make that face, Zuko. It was _seven_ years ago. I _know_ you’ve changed. Will I be able to mention anything from that year without you looking like you’re about to curl up and scream?”

Zuko’s frown only deepens. “I tried to _kill_ you guys! So many times!”

Sokka waves his hand, like that’s nothing. “You never would’ve _killed_ us. Besides, you’ve saved all of us countless times since then.”

For someone as self-loathing as Zuko, spending so much time with someone as forgiving as Sokka is incredibly frustrating (but deep down, nice). “I still destroyed your watchtower.”

Sokka’s smile drops, face deadpan, and a strange mix of satisfaction and panic bubble up inside Zuko. “And I’ll never forgive you for that,” Sokka says, voice monotone.

Zuko doesn’t dare breathe, doesn’t dare say _anything_.

“Come _on_ , Zuko,” Sokka says, smile returning, with a laugh, “you literally helped me rebuild it _way_ better than it ever was, after the war. _Anyway_. It’s weird, you know? My whole life, we were just a tiny village and now we’re this big _city_. It’s strange. They’ve expanded even more since you last saw it, too. It’s nice, that it’s being rebuilt and all, but it doesn’t feel as much like _home_ , you know?”

Zuko doesn’t; his childhood home was a royal villa in Caldera, but they spent most of their time in the palace, and then lived there after Azulon’s death. Now, he lives in the palace. The Fire Nation has hardly changed, only to get smaller. He nods anyway. It didn’t feel like home without his mother, and then when he finally got her back, he’d lost Azula. So maybe he does understand, to some degree.

“Is that why you came home early?”

“Not exactly,” Sokka says, “I mean, I missed being here, and it was getting kind of…difficult to be at home.”

Zuko frowns. Sokka’s never not enjoyed being at the South Pole. “Why?”

“It’s just…everyone’s so _happy_ ,” Sokka groans, “and, okay, I know that sounds bad. But like, they’re all still talking about Aang and Katara’s wedding, which like, it was almost a _year_ ago now. And then my grandma’s remarried, and I’m pretty sure my dad and Bato are, like, _two_ seconds away from getting together. I didn’t have a single moment away from a couple or people talking about a couple. And, obviously, I’m happy for them all, but…I’m just kinda _there_. They’ve all found their _person_ , while I’m just…on my own.”

“Their person?”

“You know, they’ve all just found people that are so perfect for them, and they love them so completely,” Sokka says, and the way he’s looking at Zuko, staring so deeply into his eyes that it makes him want to look away but he’s also frozen, and wouldn’t dream of tearing his eyes away from Sokka’s perfect, icy blue eyes and the sheer _emotion_ they’re fixing him with. Zuko wishes he were better at reading expressions, because as well as he’s gotten to know Sokka, he can’t understand the look in his eyes, so open and yet so entirely _unreadable_ that it hurts. “And the people love them so completely back.”

There’s a sadness now, Zuko can recognise that much, a brief glint of it before Sokka turns his face away, the break of contact hitting Zuko like a bucket of ice water.

Zuko wants to reassure him, but he’s bad at this. “I’m sure you’ll meet someone, soon.”

“Yeah, right. Of course. I’ll meet someone,” Sokka says, with a touch of bitterness that immediately makes Zuko feel like he said something wrong.

“You will,” Zuko tries again, hating the frown settling in between Sokka’s eyebrows and the distant look in his eyes. “Really. Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

Sokka meets his eyes again. A perfect, crystalline blue that Zuko could get lost in forever, a stark contrast to the dark skin around them. His eyebrows draw up with a small sadness that Zuko would spend eternity to ensure was never on his face again.

“I don’t want _anyone_ ,” Sokka says, eye boring into Zuko’s. Zuko doesn’t have the best social skills, and often misses out on cues, but rarely notices when he’s missing something until someone points it out to him. Now, though, he can _feel_ the emptiness of something he’s missing, a deep chasm between him and Sokka. Sokka’s eyes, so full of a strange sorrow and hope, meet Zuko’s with a desperation, like he’s trying to tell him _something_ but Zuko just can’t quite figure it out, not for lack of trying.

“We should, uh, get to bed. Probably,” Sokka says, tearing his eyes away again, “I’ve had a long day. You know, travelling. And you really need rest.”

“I don-”

“No,” Sokka interrupts before Zuko even starts, “you _do._ ”

Zuko sighs, knowing he’s right. But how is he supposed to with that _look_ Sokka gave him still rattling around in his head?

Sokka downs the rest of his wine and finishes off his last few bites of food in silence, then looks at Zuko.

“Do I need to force you to bed?” he asks, which Zuko would take as an exaggeration if he were anyone but himself.

“No, it’s fine,” Zuko says. As much as he wants to spend more time with Sokka, to talk to him all night until the sun comes up and then keep going, he can tell Sokka wants to be alone, for whatever reason. So, he’ll let him go. There’s always tomorrow. “Do you want me to get your bags for you?”

Sokka shakes his head, “It’s fine. I’ll get them in the morning. Right now, I just…need some sleep.”

Zuko nods. He wants to ask Sokka what’s going to happen tomorrow. He suggested they maintain the façade of their relationship, but Zuko has no idea what that entails and desperately wants to know more. But he also doesn’t want to keep Sokka any longer. He can find out later. Maybe Sokka will change his mind. A part of him is relieved at the thought of it, at not having to pretend with Sokka and keep up the lie (another part, disappointed).

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Zuko asks, standing up. He deliberately poses it as a question, giving Sokka the option to back out.

Sokka smiles, his eyes still distracted. “Always.”

Zuko smiles back to the best of his ability. “Goodnight, Sokka.”

Sokka’s smile still doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Goodnight, Zuko.”

Zuko leaves as quickly as possible, not wanting to dwell too much on Sokka’s strange behaviour and instead just needing to get back to his room where he has some space to breathe. Sokka’s entire proposal, the idea of a fake relationship, mentioned so briefly before they moved on entirely, has Zuko riddled with anxiety. He doesn’t know what to think about any of it and has no one to talk to about it. Only Sokka, but he’s clearly unwilling to talk to Zuko because of whatever he’s feeling about his lack of a relationship.

Zuko nearly walks straight into the wall, because how could he be so _stupid?_ Sure, the fake relationship was Sokka’s idea, but Zuko is still the one that got them into this situation. Sokka’s a good friend and would do something like this even if it weren’t what _he_ wanted. Sokka’s just come back from visiting his family, upset because of his relationship status and inability to find someone to be with, then comes straight back to a relationship disaster that means he has to pretend to date Zuko. Meaning he can’t even begin to think about any relationships of his own, because _Zuko_ will be in the way. It takes everything Zuko has not to run straight back to Sokka and tell him they can call it off. Of course Sokka would be upset about it, he wants his own relationship and happiness without Zuko in the way. It still doesn’t quite explain the _way_ he looked at Zuko, longing and sad, but it makes far more sense now.

Resisting the urge to run back to Sokka, Zuko makes it back to his room. He can talk to Sokka in the morning, tell him it’s okay, they don’t have to do this. Zuko can figure it out of his own.

In his room, Zuko eyes up his bed. He’s tired – exhausted, really – but doesn’t want to sleep, at least not yet. He goes through to his bathroom instead, settling on a bath to ease the deep aching out of his muscles and maybe relax him enough to let him sleep.

The water is warm, a perfect heat that works its way under Zuko’s skin and slowly leeches the tension out of him, the steam clogging his thoughts of anything other than the immediate moment. He pushes out thoughts of Sokka, trying to focus on relaxing his body and enjoying the brief respite for as long as it lasts.

Somewhere down the line, Zuko drifts off, head lolling back against the tub and heat overtaking his brain. He doesn't know how long it lasts, but it’s the best sleep he’s had in a while. Which, considering he’s in a hard bathtub with his knees bent and arms going numb on the sides, is saying something.

The water is cool when he wakes up. Zuko knows he should probably get out, but he wants to maintain the illusion of peace for at least a little longer. He reaches his arm down and spreads his palm flat against the side of the bath, gradually heating the water up through it until it’s a tolerable temperature again.

Zuko slips slowly under the water, not caring that the loose hair around his shoulders gets wet, until he’s almost fully submerged. He doesn’t find peace in water the same way Sokka and Katara always do (he never fails to be surprised by the way both of them immediately relax into nothingness the moment they’re underwater), but he can’t deny the pleasure of all sound being absorbed by the water, nothing but the faint rumbling of the water moving against his eardrums.

Distantly, Zuko hears a muffled voice and banging. He jolts upright, lifting his torso out of the water and not enjoying the cool air hitting his wet skin.

“Zuko, you in here?”

It’s Sokka, voice coming from Zuko’s bedroom, nothing but the bathroom door between the two of them. Zuko’s heart stops, _very_ aware of his _very_ naked body. He feels his flush from his toes up to his hairline.

“Uh, one second!” he calls back to Sokka, voice an embarrassing squeak. He practically jumps out of the tub, soaking the floor in the process. He quickly dries himself off and wraps a robe around him, thankful he had the sense to bring it through to the bathroom rather than leaving it in his bedroom.

Zuko steps out into his bedroom, embarrassed and still half-wet. Sokka is sat on his bed, in his pyjamas, loose fitting trousers and a not-so-loose fitting tunic that is _very_ sleeveless, and Zuko is hyper aware of this fact, trying not to stare at Sokka’s toned arms.

“Uh, hey,” Zuko says, sitting down on the stool in front of his dressing table. Sokka seems more like himself again, which is a relief, but Zuko really hadn’t expected to see him again tonight.

“Nice bath?” Sokka asks, with a slightly mischievous look in his eye.

Zuko glances at himself in the mirror, checking he hasn’t got soap covering his face or anything else equally as embarrassing. His skin is flushed from the heat of the bath, the untied part of his hair starting to wave as it dries, but no embarrassing soap. Luckily.

“Yeah,” Zuko shrugs, “what’s up?”

“Well, I was thinking.”

“I know you probably wanted to come to share this rare occurrence, but it is late.”

Sokka squints at Zuko, “Ha, ha. Funny. I prefer your sarcasm directed at Aang and Katara.”

Zuko gives him a teasing smile in response. “What were you thinking?” he prompts, after no further words for Sokka.

“Yeah, I was thinking-” Sokka cuts off when Zuko reaches up to untie his top knot, letting the hair fall down around his shoulders, looking like Zuko’s just said something horrendously inappropriate, his face red and eyes wide. He stares at Zuko, eyes flickering down to his shoulders and back. “Yeah, I, uh. Was thinking- uh.”

Zuko frowns at him. He realises the hair tie now in his hand is _not_ the standard gold or red cloth he’s used to, but instead a thin strip of blue leather that Sokka must’ve left lying around his room at some point or another. Zuko flushes, quickly tying up all of his hair into a loose knot, hoping Sokka doesn’t notice the blue.

“Right, yeah,” Sokka says, shaking his head, “we need to come up with a plan.”

“A plan?”

“Yeah, a plan. If we’re gonna pass off to everyone that we’re dating, we’ve gotta put in _some_ effort.”

“Oh. Right.” So Sokka’s suggestion _hasn’t_ been forgotten about. They’re going ahead with it. Okay. Zuko can do this. No panicking. Just…pretending to date Sokka. It’s not a big deal. “Don’t we just have to…tell everyone? Well, they already know. What else do we have to do?”

“We’ve gotta make it _convincing_ ,” Sokka says, looking mildly offended. “No way am I half-assing this. I’ve seen what people are like in the Fire Nation. You guys are so…open with relationships. There’s PDA left, right and centre. It’s weird, but cool. It only makes sense the Fire Lord would be the same.”

“Uh.” Zuko can’t think for a long, _long_ moment, trying and failing to wrap his head around him and Sokka, pretending to be a couple in the way _real_ couples are. “I don’t think we need to go that far, in a professional environment-”

“Yeah, but it’s also your home environment. Plus, like, you’re the Fire Lord. You can do what you want. If you want to hold your boyfriend’s hand, you can. You know?”

“Right.” Zuko tries hard to swallow the lump in his throat. Boyfriend. Holding hands.

“Besides, it’ll be fun. In the South everyone’s so… _private_. Like, it’s _wrong_ that you want to show everyone you love your partner? Which makes _no_ sense, really. I never got it. My parents were always _so_ loving when we were at home, and then as soon as we were in public, they acted entirely different. I decided when I was a kid, I’d _never_ be that worried about other people’s opinions, and if I wanted to kiss the person I loved then I would.”

“But…it’s not like we’re a _real_ -” Zuko barely manages to choke the words out because _Sokka. Kissing._

“Sure, but I still want to make it _convincing_. And real, you know, if it’s Fire Nation culture, then-”

“Only for straight couples,” Zuko interrupts, because telling the world he has a boyfriend is one thing, let alone displaying _affection_ with that boyfriend, “it’s hardly accepted for two men to walk around holding hands.”

“But isn’t that the point of this, to change that? If anyone’s gonna do it, it’s the Fire Lord. You’re surrounded by guards all the time, it’s not like they can _do_ anything. Plus, you make the laws.”

“They can try to assassinate me again.”

Sokka face scrunches up, darkening at the memory of those first few years. “I won’t let them. If anyone got _near_ you, I-”

“I’m sure it’d be fine,” Zuko says, worried about the structural integrity of his bed by the force of Sokka’s grip on one of the posters, knuckles white.

Sokka’s face relaxes, and he eventually lets go of the bed. “I think it’s important, really. If anyone will help the shift towards more tolerance, it’s you.”

“I don’t know…”

“Come on, what’s the worst that can happen?”

Zuko gives him a look because they’ve just _been_ through the worst that can happen. But something else rises to the surface of Zuko’s mind, something far worse than any failed or successful assassination attempt. He remembers his father’s face, bitter and twisted, when Zuko – an oblivious, unaware child – called another boy pretty. He remembers the sting on his cheek and the threat of flames against his body on the floor before his mother intervened. He pictures his father now, still powerful from his cell, looking down on Zuko, impossible fire in his hand, ready to hurt Zuko far worse than he ever has. If Ozai found out he was openly in a relationship with a man, was publicly holding his hand, doing _anything_ of the sort…he’d kill Zuko. Zuko would be dead, firebending or not. Ozai would do it with his bare hands if he had to. Zuko would prefer an impersonal assassination.

“Zuko, you okay?” Sokka’s voice breaks through his thoughts, distant.

Zuko tries to look at him, but he can only see his father’s face where Sokka’s should be, mouth spitting fire and eyes burning with anger. Zuko flinches away, trying to cover his face from the flames, the heat of them sending a sickness flushing through him. He pushes away from Ozai, sending the stool hurtling to the ground with him still on top of it.

He hits the ground with a heavy thud, hitting his head, and there’s a dizzying moment of before his eyes focus on Sokka leaning over him, eyebrows knitted together in concern. Sokka, not Ozai. Dark skin, bright blue eyes, brown hair starting to come loose from his wolftail. Sokka. Sokka, cool hands touching his face, the back of his head, his chest.

“Zuko?” Sokka asks, “What happened?”

Zuko pushes himself upright. “My father is the worst that can happen.”

Sokka’s eyes soften, helping Zuko stay upright. “If you don’t want to, we don’t-”

“No, I do,” Zuko interrupts, reminding himself of the position his father’s in, in prison, powerless, weak. He has no power over him anymore, and Zuko needs to start acting like it. “You’re right.”

Sokka smiles, standing up and helping Zuko up until they’re both sat on the bed. “So, you’re ready to talk plans?”

Zuko sighs, knowing this isn’t going to end well for him. He can barely handle the gentle hand resting on his lower back. How’s he going to handle Sokka treating him like his _boyfriend_ , in _public_? “I’m ready to talk plans,” he says, reluctantly.

Sokka’s hand moves away from Zuko’s back, and he has to try hard to hide his disappointment.

“What did you tell them, exactly?” Sokka asks, bringing his legs up and crossing them underneath him on the bed. “Like, did you give any hint as to how long we’ve been together, anything like that?”

“I didn’t tell them anything, really. But why-”

“We need a _cover story_ , idiot. What if someone asks something and we give entirely different answers?”

“Right.”

“How long do you think we’ve been together?” Sokka asks, “More than two weeks, obviously.”

“Uh.” A lump is forming in Zuko’s throat again and he’s struggling to form coherent thoughts. “A month?”

Sokka nods. “So, let’s say we decided to keep it secret, at first. You know, we’re in the public eye, we wanted time to figure our relationship out first before announcing it to the world. That’s why we weren’t telling anyone.”

“But why tell people now?”

“Well, you slipped up, right? People guessed it and the truth came out. Now that I’m back, we’ll confirm it and let the news spread. And, you know, start acting like a couple.”

Zuko nods, not trusting himself to speak.

“It depends on what you’re comfortable with, but anything’s on the table for me, really. I don’t mind.”

Zuko swallows. Hard. “Anything? You mean-”

“How we’ll act in public. I’m happy with holding hands, kissing, gross pet names. I need to get back at Aang and Katara _somehow-_ ”

Zuko thinks his brain has short-circuited, or maybe broken entire. Sokka is happy with _kissing_. The thought of kissing Sokka sends a panic through him. He’s kissed two people in his life and both of them were girls. He _never_ expected to have the opportunity to kiss a guy, let alone one that looks like _Sokka_. That _is_ Sokka.

“Is that all good with you? Like…I just treat you like I would an actual boyfriend?”

Zuko opens his mouth to speak, but nothing but a hoarse squeak comes out. He clears his throat, trying to ignore how dry it is. “Uh, yeah. That’s fine. That…sounds...good.”

Sokka smiles. “Great. Because we’ve only been ‘dating’ for, like, a month, there’s nothing _big_ , especially ‘cause we already know each other pretty much as well as you can. But there’s _one_ big thing.”

“Mm?”

“How did we get together?”

“Uh.” Zuko doesn’t know where to start with that. Doesn’t even know how to _think_ about that. “How are you so good at this?”

Sokka grins, “I haven’t done it before, if that’s what you’re asking. What can I say, I’m the plan guy, I’m good at plans. That, and all my incredible experience with all kinds of relationships.”

Zuko raises an eyebrow. “I haven’t seen any in the last two years.”

Sokka’s face goes bright red, but surely, he can’t be embarrassed about _that_. Zuko hasn’t had _any_ relationships in the last seven years, two doesn’t mean anything.

“Yeah, well, that doesn’t count,” Sokka says, voice a few pitches higher. He clears his throat. “I had men and women practically _hanging_ off me in Republic City. But, you know, how am I supposed to find time for a relationship when I’ve got _you_ to look after. You take up all my time.”

“I’m not- I don’t-”

“I’m kidding, it’s fine,” Sokka puts a hand on Zuko’s knee, “I’m not really looking to meet anyone new, right now.”

He fixes Zuko with a similar look to before, an almost sad longing. It makes Zuko’s heart clench in his chest, wanting to wipe all hints of sadness out of Sokka’s life forever.

“Anyway,” Sokka says, removing his hand and covering the look with a smile, “how we got together…”

Zuko doesn’t say anything, knowing that this is Sokka’s thinking face and that nothing he comes up with could hope to compare with whatever Sokka’s about to think up.

“You’d been in love with me for years, obviously,” Sokka says, teasingly, but Zuko’s chest still seizes up like it’s true. Which it _isn’t_. He _knows_ he and Sokka would never be anything more than friends.

Zuko scoffs, trying to play off his discomfort, “As if, I think it should be the other way round.”

A brief flicker of panic crosses over Sokka’s face, but before Zuko can even think about what _that_ means, it’s gone, hidden under another smile.

“Fine, I’ve been in love with you for years,” Sokka says, and the unreality of the words doesn’t make their effect on Zuko any lesser. “Ever since you first beat me at swordbending.”

“It’s _not_ called swordbending.”

“Your swordbending abilities were too much for me…” Sokka continues with a glint in his eye, “I was swooning the moment you knocked my sword to the floor.”

Zuko rolls his eyes but his heart is still pounding heavy beneath his ribcage.

“After that first swordbending kai, I was hopelessly in love.”

“Sokka, I swear-”

“But you were oblivious, and busy ruling a nation,” Sokka keeps going. “It was only when, a month ago, you saw me training with Piandao you realised _how much_ I’d improved since we used to swordbend together and you just _couldn’t resist me_.”

Sokka gives him an annoying smirk, and Zuko _really_ hopes his cheeks aren’t flaming the way they feel. He remembers the day, Sokka and Piandao had been training together in the gardens (which Zuko had repeatedly told him was _not_ what they were there for), and Zuko had gone out there for a break between meetings, hoping to get a few minutes of peace. Instead, he was met with a sweaty, shirtless Sokka effortlessly holding his ground against the best swordsman in the nation. Sokka is right, he’s come a _long_ way since the two of them used to spar in the Western Air Temple. If Zuko had the time for more sparring, he’s not sure he’d win so easily anymore.

“So, what? I confessed my love for you right then and there?”

“Oh, no,” Sokka says, “you waited until that _night_. I was sore from training all day, you were feeling _generous_ , so while you worked out the knots in my arms and legs with your amazingly warm hands, you confessed your love for me.”

Zuko’s surprised; other than the love confession, the events of the day were entirely truthful. He hardly remembered that day without Sokka’s reminder, he’s amazed Sokka remembers it so well.

“I, of course, confessed mine right back, and the rest is history,” Sokka says, “or, at least, not suitable for sharing with our friends and colleagues,” he adds with a wink that makes Zuko think he might just melt into a puddle of mortification. “Don’t worry, I won’t allude to our fake sex life to everyone else. Probably.”

Zuko glares at him, cheeks flaming. Thinking about sex with Sokka is _definitely_ not on his to-do list.

“Do you think it’ll be weird if you’re still living in your house?” Zuko asks, “Instead of the palace?”

“Well, we’ve only been together a month,” Sokka shrugs, “that’d be pretty fast to essentially move in together. But, you know, I should probably spend more time with you here.”

He winks again and Zuko may go into cardiac arrest.

“Are you okay? You look nervous.”

“I, uh.” Zuko is nervous, and many, _many_ other things. “I don’t know if I’ll be any good at this. I’m not exactly…experienced, when it comes to relationships.”

Sokka smiles at puts a reassuring hand over Zuko’s. “Don’t worry. I’ve got plenty to go around,” he teases, but his face drops into something more serious. “Really, though. I can lead the way. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

Zuko nods. He doesn’t know if he’s comfortable with _any_ of this, but at the same time he knows he could never back out of it. Not just for all the reasons that they’re actually doing it, but Zuko’s also…curious. He wants to know where this will go, even if it just about kills him in the process. He’ll get over his nerves, eventually, as long as he doesn’t think too hard about the whole _kissing_ thing. Maybe it’ll be the worst mistake of his life, and it might just ruin their friendship, but Zuko doesn’t think anything would make him back out now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning for some minor references to homophobia and child abuse (and ~slight~ panic attack), if you don't want to read just skip between "come on, what's the worst that can happen?" and "zuko pushes himself upright"
> 
> updates every friday!


	4. Chapter 4

Zuko drifts in and out of sleep for most of the night, plagued with his usual concerns of political and economic matters, now with the added stress of thinking about his and Sokka’s fake relationship that they’ll no doubt be debuting to the world in the morning.

As soon as the sky starts to lighten, the sun just teasing below the horizon, Zuko gives up on sleep entirely. He might as well get on with his day, having not much luck with sleep.

As usual, he heads down to do some sunrise exercises to warm him up for the day and keep his bending sharp. Sometimes his uncle will join him, test him on some more complex forms that took Zuko longer to master, even though he’d long stopped making mistakes with them years ago. He enjoys the company, so he never tells him it’s pointless. This morning he’s alone, the sun just barely starting to light up the horizon, the palace perfectly still before most of the staff come in for the day.

Zuko enjoys the walk out to the gardens. While at night the emptiness of the palace is oppressive and lonely, in the morning it’s freeing, hopeful.

Zuko’s always been a morning person, and the early morning walk to the gardens reminds him of the well-trodden route he and his mother would take to feed the turtle ducks each morning, before she left, and his mornings instead became filled with rigorous training routines.

Even now that she’s back, it’s not quite the same when they sit by the pond. As much as they’ve healed their relationship over the years, there’s still a tension between them. Zuko knows that she sees his father’s face when she looks at him, sees the damage he left in her absence. The topic of Azula only makes things more difficult between them. Ursa worries about Azula’s safety, yes, but not more than she fears Azula’s return and what that could mean for her and Kiyi’s safety.

Zuko knows he should fear for his own safety, and the fear does occasionally creep into his nightmares, but it pales in comparison to his worry over Azula’s own safety and peace of mind. Hence, it’s become a taboo topic between the two of them, one neither of them wants to discuss in any capacity.

The gardens are gorgeous in the morning, the grass, flowers, and trees dappled with the first golden flickers of sunlight. It’s Zuko’s favourite place to be at this time, and any other time. An island of happiness and peace amongst the turmoil of his life, his respite from it all, as it had always been.

He hangs his towel for when he gets inevitably sweaty over one of the tree branches hanging over the clear space he uses to practice, but keeps his shirt on while the cool, moist air of the night is yet to be burnt off by the sun.

In a few hours, Sokka will be up and probably coming into the palace to drag Zuko to breakfast, and that’s when it’ll all begin. Zuko takes a few deep breaths to try and ease the panic at the thought of everything Sokka mentioned last night – _kissing_ loops over and over in his head – and he breaks into the flow of the katas, using the rhythm to push away any thoughts of anything but the immediate moment and his surroundings.

He breaks for a breather after he doesn’t know how long, and when he comes back into himself, attention drifting out past his breath, his inner fire, the feeling of heat shooting out past his skin, he can feel a pair of eyes watching him, closely. Zuko takes in a few deep breaths, easing his inner fire down to a low, steady flicker, and turns to meet Sokka’s gaze.

Sokka meets it with a smile, half-eaten apple in hand and legs crossed underneath him on the grass.

“You were really in the zone,” he says, “didn’t want to disturb, Mr. Jerkbender.”

Zuko glares at him with little venom, “Sokka.”

“Sorry, _Lord_ Jerkbender.”

“You’re the worst,” he says, grabbing his towel and collapsing on the ground next to Sokka.

He knows it’s hopeless to try and continue his katas with the expert of distraction sitting watching him. It was impossible training Aang with Sokka around when they were kids, and he had to come up with increasingly inventive ways to keep him occupied so he could sneak Aang away to train where he wouldn’t be distracted.

Now, with Sokka’s undivided attention on Zuko, he’s hopeless and knows he couldn’t even try. While Sokka’s great at distracting others, he’s determined to stay focused himself. He was a lot more easily distracted back when they were kids, but not anymore. Unless you count in official meetings, anywhere where there’s shopping, or in any situation Sokka doesn’t want to be in. But if he wants Zuko’s attention, there’s no distracting him. Zuko knows, he’s tried countless times, to no avail.

“You’re up early,” Zuko comments. Unless there’s some kind of official engagement, he’s lucky if he sees Sokka before late morning when he decides he wants breakfast with him.

Sokka shrugs, taking a bite out of his apple. “I’m a very serious actor,” he says, far too deadpan to be anything even remotely serious, “I need to get into character.”

Zuko raises his eyebrow. “Get into character?”

“Mm-hm,” Sokka nods, “Boyfriend Sokka is very dedicated, and can’t stand to be away from you long enough for a lie in. Plus, he enjoys the view.”

He nods to the spot Zuko had been stood in before. Zuko feels a flush rush up to his cheeks and has to remind himself that _it’s not real_.

“I also knew that if I wanted to get any time in with you, I’d have to sneak it in before you’re whisked away on Fire Lord duties and I need to get _some_ time after two weeks of nothing.”

“I haven’t got any Fire Lord duties today. I made sure it was kept clear, ‘cause you were _supposed_ to be coming back today.”

“Wait, really?” Sokka turns to look at Zuko, eyes wide and lips slightly parted (the unwarranted thoughts of _kissing kissing kissing_ creep back into his head).

“Really. I missed you.”

Sokka smiles, strangely secretive.

“So, I get the Fire Lord to myself all day long. Hmm. How can I abuse this while it lasts?” Sokka muses, tapping his chin for extra dramatic effect.

“Your wish is my command.”

Sokka thinks some more, eyes drifting round the gardens for inspiration as he finishes off his apple. “Oh, you know what we haven’t done in _ages_?”

Zuko’s going to regret this, he knows it. “What haven’t we done in ages?”

“A good old _swordbending kai_.”

Zuko laughs, because of _course_ Sokka would choose that for his day off. “That’s how Boyfriend Sokka likes to spend his time?”

“Boyfriend Sokka takes all the time he can get with you. He also likes to _win_.”

Zuko narrows his eyes, “We’ll see about that.”

“Remember, I’ve been down South hunting the past two weeks while you’ve been living in your palace.”

“Even I know you don’t hunt with a sword.”

“Not the way I do it.”

“There’s no way you can-”

“Okay, fine. I’ll let you be right if you can name one _single_ thing about hunting.”

“Uh…”

“If I don’t use a sword, what do I use?”

“I…uh…”

Sokka smiles, cocky. “Point proven.”

“You’re annoying.”

“Sorry we can’t all be born with a silver spoon in our mouth.”

Zuko rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. He only ever tolerates teasing from Sokka.

“So, Fire Lord Zuko, swordbending? Yes or no?”

“Now?”

“Obviously. You’re already dressed for it; we might as well enjoy having the palace mostly to ourselves for a bit.”

“Go get your sword then, I’ll meet you in the _training area_.”

Sokka pouts, “Not here? _You_ get to train here.”

“Because I’m _careful_. Do I need to remind you what you did to the fire lilies last time?”

Sokka sighs, “Fine, I’ll see you in like…five minutes.”

“There’s no way you’re making it there and back in five minutes.”

“Is that a challenge, Zuko?”

“ _No_.”

But Sokka’s already beaming as he backs away, “See you in five minutes!”

Zuko sighs, watching Sokka sprint away with a fondness he reserves just for him. His heart swells with the relief of Sokka being back again, no longer having to endure the dreadfully empty palace and lifeless walls. With Sokka back, everything’s okay again.

He takes his time getting his swords from his room, knowing Sokka will never make it back in five minutes. Except, when he gets down to the outdoor training area, Sokka’s already there, panting and red in the face. He’s changed into some training clothes and has his sword lying on the floor by his feet, still in its hilt.

“Five minutes?”

“You know, the walk to and from the palace really doesn’t feel _that_ long. It feels a _lot_ longer when you’re running,” Sokka says in between breaths.

“You sound ready for a fight.”

Sokka holds up a finger, doubling over, “I’m gonna need…a minute.”

Zuko laughs and leans back against one of the wooden beams behind him, watching Sokka struggle.

“You’re an idiot, you know?”

Sokka waves him off. “I don’t wanna hear it, prince perfect.”

Zuko flinches at the old nickname. It had first come out after their first sparring session, when Sokka had repeatedly lost and was very frustrated over it. He’d kept up the use of it after then, any time Zuko was good at anything Sokka wanted to be good at, or any time he showed him up in any way. It had fallen out of use with years apart and only seeing one another on diplomatic trips and short visits.

The sound of it makes Zuko feel like a teenager again, confused and struggling to get to know his first _real_ friends, not even slightly knowing how to act. Aang was friendly, obviously, but it was still difficult to ease the tension. It was after Sokka had accepted him, after their trip to the Boiling Rock, that things started to ease between everyone. Sokka’s easy jokes and teasing quickly made Zuko feel welcome and part of the family (they _slightly_ eased Katara’s dislike of him, too, even if it wasn’t by much).

It hits Zuko with a wave of sadness; he and his friends haven’t spent any significant period of time together in _years_ , and the visits only get further and further apart as they all get busier with their responsibilities around the world.

He misses the days of camping and training and having to listen to Katara and Toph’s endless bickering, Aang and Sokka’s endless buffoonery. He doesn’t miss Sokka and Suki’s flirting. Even though there was the looming threat of fighting his father, it was the first time in his life Zuko had ever felt like part of a family that wanted him there, and he misses it.

“When was the last time we were all together in one place?” Zuko asks.

Sokka looks up at him, the redness starting to leave his face, his breath a bit steadier. “Huh?”

“All six of us, when were we last all together?”

“Hmm. It must’ve been Aang and Katara’s wedding.”

“A _year_ ago?”

Sokka nods, “Before their engagement party, it was even longer.”

Zuko sighs, “This sucks.”

Sokka smiles gently, “Why do we all have to be so important, right?”

“I wish we weren’t.”

Sokka hums slightly, “Imagine if we were normal. We could all live in Republic City-”

“Republic City wouldn’t _exist_.”

“Okay, that’s beside the point. Just imagine. Living in the city, hanging out all the time. No more responsibilities than the regular person. If something bad was happening we’d just be like, ‘man, this sucks’ and keep living our life.”

Zuko laughs, “If only.”

“But then, on the other hand, if we were all _normal_ , that means Aang wouldn’t have been in the iceberg and we never would’ve met him, which means we never would’ve met _you_ , and Suki, and Toph. We’d all just be living our separate lives. I think I prefer our not-normal friends.”

Zuko smiles. “Me too.”

“Now,” Sokka says with a lot more force, grabbing his sword off the floor and straightening himself up. He unsheathes his sword and throws the hilt somewhere behind him, making Zuko wince as it bounces across the stone. “Fire Lord Zuko, I challenge you to a swordbending kai.”

Zuko rolls his eyes, unsheathing his own swords off his back. All it takes it one curt nod from Zuko for Sokka to press forward, immediately going in with a swing that Zuko blocks. He tries to counter it, but Sokka blocks that easily.

 _Fine_ , Zuko thinks, _I’ll try harder_.

He pushes back against Sokka, sending swing after swing towards him that Sokka deftly blocks each time, backing up until he’s almost pressed against one of the beams lining the training area. Zuko had known Sokka had definitely improved, but he hadn’t expected it to be such a _challenge_ to beat him.

Sokka’s cornered now, though, pressed against the wooden beam. He smiles, slow and cocky. It sends a flutter through Zuko’s chest, making him realise how _close_ they are, swords interlocked between their chests. It’s not quite close enough to kiss, but close enough that Zuko can’t think about anything but that. He silently curses Sokka for putting the thought into his mind. He didn’t think about kissing his _best friend_ , not until Sokka brought it up and now every moment is filled with nervous anticipation for when they eventually do it.

Sokka takes advantage of Zuko’s distraction, separating Zuko’s swords with a quick downstroke, knocking one to the side with a swift hit that sends it flying across the floor.

“Careful, you’re getting rusty, old man.”

Zuko narrows his eyes. “I’m _one_ year older than you, Sokka.”

“Ancient. Maybe you should trade one of those swords for a walking stick.”

“Just because you’ve been training more, doesn’t mean you can win.”

Sokka gives him that same cocky smile, and Zuko decides there’s no _way_ he can let him win, because he won’t hear the end of it.

“We’ll see about that.”

Zuko dodges backwards when Sokka starts moving forward with renewed vigour, and he’s definitely struggling to hold his ground against Sokka with only one sword. He eyes his other one, sitting on the far-left side of the training space, and starts to subtly shift the trajectory of their fight towards it.

He manages to get them close, hopefully without Sokka realising what he’s up to. Now he just has to figure out how he’ll distract or disarm Sokka long enough to grab the sword. He gets in close, giving Sokka less range with his sword. Maybe this will be a bit of a dirty move, but Sokka’s used his boomerang before, so as far as Zuko’s concerned nothing’s off the table.

In between fighting off Sokka’s hits, Zuko gets in closer and closer, until he can get his foot planted next to Sokka’s, the inside of his leg pressed against the outside of Sokka’s. Sokka looks stunned, to say the least, eyes wide and dumbfounded. Zuko uses the moment to push his foot forward then bringing it back, hooking the back of Sokka’s ankle and sweeping his leg out from underneath him.

Sokka gasps as he goes down, and Zuko quickly grabs him around the waist to slow and control his fall so he doesn’t get hurt.

As soon as Sokka’s on the ground, Zuko rolls off of him and grabs his other sword. Before Zuko can even stand up, Sokka’s stood over him, a glint in his eye and the tip of his sword pointed at Zuko’s throat.

“You cheat.”

Zuko grins, still happy he managed to get one over on Sokka. He wasn’t _quite_ ready to admit Sokka’s gotten better than him.

“I think that was pretty fair,” he says.

Sokka scowls, “Just admit I’m better than you now and you got _scared_.”

“I did nothing of the sort.”

Sokka’s frown deepens, and he pushes his sword forward, so the tip is just grazing the skin under Zuko’s chin. Zuko puts his hands up in defeat, letting his swords clatter to the ground either side of him.

“Okay, okay. I accept defeat,” he says, enjoying the smile that blooms across Sokka’s face, “maybe that non-stop training with Piandao _has_ paid off.”

“Of course it has,” Sokka says, grabbing Zuko’s hand and pulling him upright, then helping him pick up his swords. “What else am I supposed to do with my free time other than make sure I can always beat the Fire Lord in a fight?”

“Mm, right,” Zuko says, remembering the countless times he’s beaten Sokka in _actual_ fights before they were friends.

“I prefer it when we’re on the same side, though,” Sokka says, nudging Zuko with his elbow as the two of them start making their way through the palace, “we’re a _far_ more gruesome competitor when we’re working together.”

Zuko smiles at the fond memories of him and Sokka, fluidly working together against countless foes, their fighting perfectly complimenting one another to easily win in any fight.

“Definitely,” he agrees.

The palace is starting to fill up, coming to life for the day. Zuko doesn’t really think anything of the different people passing them in the hallways until Sokka’s fingers brush against his, pulling them in and interlacing their two hands. Zuko has to remind himself to breathe. He was expecting this, they _planned_ this, but it still makes every breath difficult. He and Sokka are holding hands, it’s no big deal, really. They’ve been far closer than this before (specifically, a very cold night camping comes to Zuko’s mind, in which all the others discovered Zuko’s ability to regulate his body temperature and they all slept clinging onto him – he got little sleep with Sokka’s face pressed against his ribs and various other limbs covering his body).

It’s not quite the same though, it hasn’t got the _romantic_ implication that this does, even if they both know it’s fake. Zuko’s never been in any even remotely romantic situation with another man, so even something as small as holding Sokka’s hand while they walk through the winding corridors is enough to send his heart into overdrive.

When they get to Zuko’s room, Sokka drops his hand and Zuko immediately wants to reach out for it again.

“I’m gonna head home and wash,” Sokka says, “but I’ll come find you when I’m done.”

“You just…walked me to my room?” Zuko asks, confused and surprised. He’d thought Sokka was coming with him to lounge in his room while Zuko got ready.

“Of course, what else are boyfriends for?” Sokka winks and it makes Zuko’s heart surge in his chest. It’s _fake_ he has to remind himself, again. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Uh, bye,” Zuko says, watching Sokka walk away and trying to think about anything but the feeling of his hand in his.

Zuko washes and dresses quickly, anxiety making him fast. He can’t stop thinking about Sokka’s hand against his, the cool skin a burning presence he can still feel. This is only the beginning and that sits like a lead weight in Zuko’s stomach.

He knows he’ll have to organise a meeting for tomorrow to announce this properly to everyone he works with to clear up any concerns or misconceptions, especially because Sokka works closely with Zuko, even outside of their friendship, as both an ambassador to the South as well as an advisor (more accurately, the only person that keeps Zuko sane), so the professional thing to do is make everyone else aware of their relationship and ensure they know things will still remain professional. But just because it's the right thing to do, doesn't make Zuko's nerves any easier to deal with.

Zuko sits and paces around his room, waiting for Sokka to get back. He eventually decides to go looking for him and opens his door to Sokka with two plates full of food.

Sokka beams at him and hands him a plate. “I brought us breakfast. I figured, judging by your reaction to holding hands you might need a bit more of a warmup to having a meal together in public.”

“What?”

“What do you mean ‘what’? You think I wouldn’t notice? You didn’t speak the _entire_ walk up to your room. Literally, until I let you go of your hand.”

“Oh.” Zuko hadn’t even noticed, he’d been so consumed with thoughts of holding hands with Sokka. _Great_.

“I get it,” Sokka says, inviting himself in and sitting on the floor at the foot of Zuko’s bed, having been told off one too many times for eating food in his bed. “you’re afraid of what everyone will think, you’re not used to it.”

Zuko nods. Sokka’s right, mostly, but when they’d been holding hands Zuko hadn’t been thinking about anything but him.

“It’ll get easier, trust me. And it’ll be worth it, right? It would suck to have to go through this with a real boyfriend.”

“Right,” Zuko agrees. A _real boyfriend_. He’s never even let himself entertain the idea of that ever happening to him. But now with Sokka saying it, it feels almost real, like an actual possibility. He can hardly imagine it, meeting someone, a _guy_ , and falling in love with him, getting to be happy with him. Zuko can’t imagine meeting anyone new, he’s happy with his small group of friends as it is. But a boyfriend, a partner, a _husband_. The thought of it makes Zuko feel hopeful, like maybe his life won’t fit the rigid prison his father laid out for him.

Zuko sits down on the floor next to Sokka, back against the end of his bed.

“I’m gonna organise a meeting for tomorrow morning,” he says, between mouthfuls of food, “to tell everyone. Ambassadors, representatives. All the people we work with a lot.”

“So _that’s_ why you look like you’re gonna pass out.”

“Yeah, 'cause this is the _worst_. Why do I have to be the one to make changes all the time?”

“It’s not fair,” Sokka agrees, “but I’m here with you. If anyone makes _any_ comments tomorrow.” He flexes his fist dramatically, punching it into his other palm. It does a little to ease the knot in Zuko’s stomach, bringing a laugh out of him.

Breakfast passes with more attempts to cheer Zuko up from Sokka, but it all does little to touch the ever-growing dread at the thought of the meeting tomorrow. Once they’d eaten, Sokka insists on taking the plates down himself.

Zuko waits restlessly for his return, his nerves increasing the longer Sokka’s gone. After a while, he decides he can’t take it anymore, and makes the short walk down to his study where at least he can find some ways to distract himself.

Zuko only has to spend a few minutes organising his desk before Sokka appears.

“Would you believe me if I said I didn’t even go to your room because I knew you’d be in here?” he says, holding a teapot.

Zuko’s entirely unsurprised; he’s pretty sure at this point that Sokka could predict his behaviour better than he could himself. “What’s with the teapot?”

“I brought tea,” Sokka offers as an explanation, “from Iroh. I figured you could use some…calming.”

Zuko slowly and carefully releases his tight death grip on his desk. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Sokka rolls his eyes and hands the teapot across to Zuko, going round the other side of the desk to get out two cups from the cabinet behind them.

“Iroh warned me not to let you blast the flavour out of it, so _no_ fire,” Sokka says, turning back around just in time to catch Zuko in the act of conjuring a flame in his palm, holding it dangerously close to the teapot.

Zuko extinguishes the flame without a word. Sokka narrows his eyes, but continues without saying anything, setting the cups down on the desk.

“He said…hm…two fingers either side and three deep breaths of fire? I think.”

Zuko nods and heats up the tea with three slow breaths. His tea-making abilities had made little improvement over the last ten years, much to his uncle’s chagrin, and he was always given strict instructions on how to reheat tea, after one too many times of heating the flavour into oblivion.

Sokka sits down in one of the spare chairs, pulling it up to the desk (he mostly keeps the chair there for Sokka) and watches as Zuko pours out tea for the two of them.

“I told Iroh about our plan, by the way,” Sokka says, taking the tea with a thankful nod, “I hope you don’t mind.”

Zuko pales and his mind immediately goes to absolutely everything his uncle could say about the plan. None of them good. “Why?”

“I wasn’t planning on it. But he was asking.”

“Asking?”

“Whether you’d spoken to me about your…lie.” Sokka smirks.

Zuko groans, both glad he wasn’t there for that conversation and desperately wanting to know what was said between them. “What did he say?”

“Oh, the usual. About how we’re both deeply worried about your wellbeing and whether or not your stress levels will let you make it to thirty.”

“ _Sokka._ About the… _plan._ ”

“He didn’t seem keen on it, really.”

“That’s a shocker.”

“He thinks we’re in over our heads.”

“When aren’t we?”

“Plus, some more things about us getting our feelings hurt.”

Zuko frowns, remembering the strange cryptic comments Iroh had made about him and Sokka. “Why would our feelings get hurt?”

Sokka shrugs but avoids Zuko’s eyes. Zuko _knows_ he’s not telling him something.

“Did he say anything else?”

“Mostly just to quit while we’re ahead, don’t be idiots, blah blah blah, the usual. When has being idiots ever stopped us?”

Sokka’s right. Besides, even if it ends up a mess for them, if it ends up making a change in the Fire Nation, or around the world, surely, it's worth it? Maybe the meeting tomorrow isn’t worth it, but he can hardly go without that.

“Stop thinking about the meeting, I can see it in your face.”

“How do you see what I’m _thinking_ in my face?”

“I can just tell,” Sokka says, “in the way your face scrunches up.”

Zuko frowns at him.

“ _Just_ like that.”

“Have I ever told you it’s annoying when you know me too well?”

“Mm, I think it’s endearing.”

“Yeah, right. I think the word you’re looking for is _infuriating_.”

“You’re just upset I beat you at swordbending.”

“ _Don’t_ start that. I let you win.”

“Sure, with a sword to your throat, that’s really _choosing_ to surrender.”

“I could’ve made a move from there; I just didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Right, right, you didn’t want to hurt me, that’s why you knocked me to the ground.”

“I caught you, so you didn’t get hurt!” Zuko’s voice squeaks a bit, embarrassingly, on the last word. “You didn’t get hurt, did you?”

“Let me do it to you and we’ll find out if it hurts,” Sokka says with a mischievous grin.

“You know I never understood Katara’s snowballs quite as well as I’ve come to over the last two years.”

“Spirits, I’m lucky fire burns, aren’t I?”

“What?”

“If you were any other kind of bender, I’d be getting snowballs or rocks or…blasts of air to the face every other minute.”

Zuko thinks about it for a moment and wants to say he would never do anything that could even remotely hurt Sokka, but then it was just this morning that he tricked him mid-swordfight so that he fell onto his ass. So, he probably can’t say that with too much conviction.

“Yeah, probably.”

“I’m such a lucky man to have such a loving partner.”

Zuko’s cheeks must be bright red, he’s sure of it. “You are, really. Very lucky.”

“Mm-hm, we’ll see about that. I preferred you when you were moping about the meeting.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. I could die.”

“You won’t die.”

“I will. Or at least pass out, or throw up. I’ll probably throw up.”

“You _won’t_ throw up.”

Zuko’s going to throw up, he knows it, even with Sokka’s reassuring hand rubbing circles on his back. Any minute now, the meeting room will fill and Zuko will have to come clean. Not really, but he’s going to have to officially, explicitly, confirm his ‘relationship’ with Sokka and it’s too much for him to take. He knows they all already know, but if he has to answer a single question, he doesn’t know what he’ll do. Scream, maybe.

“Stop freaking out,” Sokka whispers.

“They’ll hate me,” Zuko groans, resisting putting his head on the table.

“They won’t hate you.”

“They could. They could accuse me of nepotism. Or say worse things.”

“I won’t let them,” Sokka insists, his hand steady against Zuko’s back, “I promise.”

The door opens and the room starts to fill, sending Zuko’s head spiralling. He takes a few deep breaths to compose himself. He just needs to get through this meeting, then it’ll be a lot easier. He can do it, he’ll survive.

Sokka’s hand leaves his back, and he rests his hands, interlaced, on the table in front of him. Zuko misses the reassurance.

Everyone takes their seats and Zuko gives himself a few moments to psyche himself up for this. It can’t be worse than facing his father to tell him he’s going to help the Avatar, can’t be worse than having to fight his sister for the throne, can’t be worse than finding out his mother wiped all memories of him. He’s fine. He’s been through worse. This is a walk in the park.

Zuko clears his throat, sitting further upright. He could stand, but that feels far too formal for something so trivial, when you get down to it.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice,” Zuko starts. Sokka drops one hand off the table and reaches it under, squeezing Zuko’s knee. “I’m sure you’ve already heard the rumours spreading round about mine and Ambassador Sokka’s relationship. I called this meeting to confirm that the rumours are true, and to give you all an opportunity to raise any concerns since me and Sokka will be maintaining a professional relationship alongside our romantic one.”

The table is silent for a long moment. Zuko scans their faces, some are surprised, some happy, some disinterested, others more…dissatisfied, even disgusted. Zuko expected this, but it still cuts deep. He makes a mental note to be wary of those looking less than pleased.

“This is an open space, any questions are welcome,” Zuko says, “within reason,” he adds as an afterthought.

“Will Ambassador Sokka be being promoted?” Li Jing, a representative from one of the smaller Fire Nation regions, asks, her hand slightly raised.

“Of course not, our professional relationship will remain the same.”

“Will he become a consort?” she asks.

“Not unless we marry,” Zuko says, knowing that’s nowhere in their future, “but that is not on the horizon as of yet.”

“Lord Zuko, if I may,” one man stands up; Chul, one of the ambassadors for the United Republic, one who still holds strong that the United Republic should be Fire Nation territory, and who consistently gets on Zuko’s nerves. His stomach wavers at the thought of what he could say. “I think a few of us may be concerned about… _biases_. Being romantically involved with an ambassador, surely, it will be difficult to remain objective over matters he raises.”

“I, uh,” Zuko panics, knowing this would’ve come up, but still having no clue how to answer it. He can hardly tell him that he already _is_ biased, and always goes to Sokka for advice on things he doesn’t know how to deal with. The ambassador would probably lose his mind if he found out Sokka fakes Zuko’s signature for meaningless paperwork that Zuko doesn’t have the time to work through.

“Are you implying you don’t think the Fire Lord is able to remain impartial?” Sokka asks before Zuko can think anything up. He doesn’t give the ambassador an opportunity to speak before continuing. “Me and Lord Zuko have been close friends for years, if you were worried about a bias, you would’ve seen it a lot sooner than now.”

“That’s my point exactly,” the ambassador only briefly addresses Sokka before focusing his energy back on Zuko, “after the end of the war, we wasted time, money, and resources rebuilding the Southern Water Tribe because of your… _friendship_. I’m worried about similar resources being wasted on a nation of savages because of this development.”

Zuko feels Sokka’s body tense next to him, his entire body coiled to spring, and Zuko sees red. He thought he’d weeded out enough of the bitter people Ozai kept close that still held resentments towards the other nations, especially disgustingly outdated views of the water tribes.

Zuko stands and takes a breath to compose himself so he doesn’t send fire hurtling across the room.

“Ambassador Chul, I think you need to brush up on your Fire Nation history. My grandfather, Fire Lord Azulon, ordered the destruction of the South’s military force and in the process destroyed their cities and hunted their waterbenders to near extinction. If you don’t think that what we have contributed to their rebuilding isn’t only a small part of repaying the damage we have caused their people, then you are sorely mistaken. As for your views on the people of the water tribes, I don’t think an ambassador position is suitable for one with so little compassion as you.”

“Your majesty, I-”

“Are there any other concerns anyone wishes to raise?” Zuko asks, avoiding looking at Ambassador Chul. The room stays silent. Zuko waits, giving plenty of time if anyone wants to speak. “This meeting is over, if anyone has any further issues feel free to approach me.”

Everyone starts to clear out, except Zuko and Sokka. As soon as Chul stands up, Zuko stands with him.

“Ambassador Chul, if you’d stay behind for a moment, please.”

Zuko won’t pretend he doesn’t get satisfaction out of the terrified look on Chul’s face.

“You want me to stay?” Sokka asks, voice low.

Zuko shakes his head. “I’ll see you outside in a minute.”

Sokka gives his knee on last squeeze, then leaves with everyone else, until the room is empty, the door shutting on the two of them.

“Ambassador Chul,” Zuko says, giving him a moment to squirm, “I do not appreciate your comments.”

“I stand by what I said,” the ambassador says, “as the Fire Lord, surely, there are people more suited to your stature.”

“Ambassador Sokka is the son of a Chief and in line to lead the Southern Water Tribe, if it’s stature you’re worried about I assure you Sokka is the most suitable partner out there.”

“I still think that-”

“I think that your views are biased and outdated, and you should confront your own beliefs before bringing them to my meetings. I expect you to leave Caldera as soon as possible to return to the United Republic, and you should know that I’ll be contacting the Avatar and my _good friend_ Katara to find a suitable replacement for you in the city.”

Ambassador Chul clenches his jaw, and Zuko waits for some kind of retort, and argument, just _waiting_ for an excuse to yell at this man. “Of course, your majesty,” he eventually says, with a nod, and Zuko is simultaneously relieved and disappointed.

The ambassador stands up, bows, and ducks out of the room, leaving Zuko alone. It’s been a while since he had to fire someone like that. At the beginning of his reign, it happened nearly every other day when he realised that most of the politicians had been in Ozai’s pocket and still held fast onto the same beliefs that had them in a hundred-year war and trying to destroy multiple nations. It’s been a while, and it’s exhausting every time, but also a relief knowing that he’s one step closer to removing Ozai’s legacy, along with Azulon’s and Sozin’s.

Zuko takes a few deep breaths before he stands up. Even if the meeting ended up far shorter than he expected, he still feels tense from it. However, he doesn’t want to leave Sokka waiting, wants to check that he’s alright after _that_ ordeal. As much as it annoyed him to hear those things out of the ambassador’s mouth, it must be a hundred times worse for Sokka.

When Zuko comes out, only Sokka is stood outside, cradling his fist in one hand. Zuko frowns, seeing the red blooming across his knuckles.

“What happened?”

“Something unprofessional,” Sokka says, “don’t fire me, too.”

Zuko takes Sokka’s hand, looking over the bruising on his knuckles with a gentle touch.

“I might’ve punched Ambassador Chul,” Sokka admits, with a mischievous grin. Zuko feels a swell of pride, but also anticipatory anger at whatever must’ve prompted it.

“What did he say to you?”

Sokka shrugs, playing it off like it’s nothing. “He called me a dirty savage and essentially accused me of sleeping my way to the top. It’s fine, I don’t think he’ll say it again.”

Zuko’s grip on Sokka’s hand tightens. He remembers a time when he would’ve said something similar to Sokka, and the reminders of the ideals he was taught as a child by his father and grandfather, and the way they shaped his opinions of Sokka and Katara still sends a wave of sickness and self-hatred through him, no matter how long ago he left them behind.

“Hey, uh, Zuko,” Sokka says, “you’re getting a little too hot for me.”

“Huh?” Zuko asks, completed stumped for a moment, before he recognises the feeling of fire coursing through his veins. He drops Sokka’s hand quickly, his own hands smoking. “I didn’t burn you, did I?”

“No, I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

“You’re sure you’re okay?”

Sokka shrugs, “I’m used to this stuff, to be honest. People are like that all over, even in the Earth Kingdom.”

“They _shouldn’t_ be.”

“I know, but what can we do? We’ve got two water tribe siblings in a relationship with the Avatar and the Fire Lord, and we’ve already helped stop the war for them. Things’ll get better in time.”

Zuko frowns because that’s nowhere near enough for him.

“Come on, let’s go get some food.”

Zuko nods, trying to put thoughts of the bitter words of hatred and Sokka’s bruised fist out of his mind. Sokka slips his hand into his, squeezing gently, and that all but does the job, thoughts filled instead - as they are more and more lately - with nothing but _Sokka._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates every friday!


	5. Chapter 5

Zuko knew it was inevitable, really, that they’d have to interact with others as a _couple_ , but he’d hoped he’d have a little more time to prepare himself and it wouldn’t be on the _very_ first day of this all. Sure, there was the meeting, but it was a professional setting, and they didn’t really have to act any different than they did before. Now, though, with Sokka dragging him towards the dining table with a few of the people from the meeting, things will be _different_. Zuko quickly scans the faces greeting them as they sit down and doesn’t recognise any of those that had the more hostile reactions to Zuko’s announcement, which is a small reassurance.

Zuko just about manages to get a few greetings in before his brain shuts down entirely. As Sokka sits down, he shuffles his chair closer to Zuko’s, so that when he sits their thighs are pressed together. Even through the thick layers of their clothes, Sokka’s leg is still a burning presence against him and Zuko can’t bring himself to focus on any of the conversation around him, can barely even manage to eat the food in front of him.

Sokka is entirely comfortable through it all, gesticulating wildly as he talks as though they’re not even making contact, or as though it’s the most normal thing in the world, meanwhile Zuko can’t even _think_ straight just from some simple contact.

He tries, hard, _really_ hard, to focus on the conversation, but just when he’s starting to think he’s gotten used to Sokka’s proximity, Sokka decides to take it that one step further and _really_ stop Zuko from being able to think, maybe for the rest of his life.

Without even looking at Zuko, Sokka puts a hand on his shoulder as he talks, animated and laughing with the rest of the group (Zuko feels a small pang of jealously that he’s never _once_ felt comfortable enough to talk to these people like this, never once had the kind of charisma that oozes off of Sokka in any kind of social situation). Which is fine, it’s a friendly shoulder touch. He’s done it a few times before; it doesn’t break Zuko’s brain too much. But it progresses, Sokka’s hand slipping down to his bicep to cup his elbow lightly, a soft, barely-there touch that _screams_ intimacy. Zuko’s sure everyone else on the table must be able to hear his heart, pounding in his chest, flooding his ears.

It's ridiculous, really. Sokka's _barely_ touching him, fingertips light against his elbow, and yet Zuko can't think about anything else. He can't _breathe_.

“Right?” Sokka says, turning to Zuko to finish off whatever he’d been talking about, giving him a soft smile that makes something in Zuko’s heart ache for more of it. He lets go of Zuko’s elbow, bringing his hand up and brushing a loose strand of Zuko’s hair back, twirling it slightly before tucking it behind his ear. The light brush of Sokka’s fingers against his cheek, his ear, then the back of his neck as his hand trails back down, all just about kills Zuko. He might spontaneously burst into flames in a minute, right in front of everyone. How is he going to survive this?

He might not, if Sokka keeps looking at him the way he’s looking at him now. He definitely underestimated Sokka’s acting abilities because no one has _ever_ looked at him the way he’s looking at him now. It stops all of Zuko's thoughts in their tracks. It’s a look he recognises; he’s seen it countless times written across Aang’s face while Katara isn’t watching. Surely, Sokka must’ve seen the look, too, and taken inspiration from it. Zuko understands, now, why Katara always blushes whenever she catches Aang. It’s an intense look to be on the receiving end of.

When Sokka’s eyes leave his, it takes a part of Zuko with it and he wants, more than anything, for Sokka to turn back, to look at him like _that_ again. He wants him to touch him again, to fix him with his affection again, but his focus has shifted back to the group, to someone else talking.

Zuko is in way over his head with this. Maybe his uncle was right. He hadn’t expected Sokka to be so _good_ at this, and for his own mind and body to be so starved of intimacy that he can’t differentiate Sokka’s acting from genuine affection. Maybe he _will_ get his feelings hurt. Already, he's jealous that Sokka's attention is on the others instead of him.

The rest of the meal passes torturously slow. Zuko waits the entire time for Sokka to look at him like that again, both dreading and desperate for it. Without it, he manages to join in on the conversation, a little bit, but as soon as Sokka touches him – whether it’s a hand on his leg, their shoulders pressing together, or more light touches on his arm – he shuts off again and has to struggle his way back into coherent thought.

He needs to be careful, Zuko decides. It’s _far_ too late to back out of this now, not after this morning, but he shouldn’t take this too far, should keep his distance from Sokka a bit. If he spends all his spare moments with Sokka looking at him like _that_ , then he definitely won’t survive whenever they have to call this off and things go back to normal again.

“How’s the rest of your day looking?” Sokka asks when they get up, after saying goodbye to everyone else at the table. When he looks at Zuko, it's normal again. The disappointment that swells inside him only gives him further proof that he needs to keep him distance.

“Busy,” Zuko says, with the appropriate entire lack of enthusiasm, “I’m booked up until the evening. Back-to-back meetings.”

Sokka has the audacity to sigh and look disappointed, even though there’s no one around but Zuko to witness it. It's frustrating, really, that Sokka is such a good actor. This isn't _fair_ on Zuko. “They really can’t get enough of you, can they?”

“Clearly not. Are you busy?”

Sokka smiles, a little cocky, “I’m free as a bird. Well, I’m meeting with Ambassador Panuk because he thinks that sea prunes are better pickled than stewed. Which is crazy. Who wants some cold sea prunes when you could have _stew_?”

“So, this warrants a…professional meeting?”

“Oh, no. I’m making him some stew, well, not sea prune because they’re too _difficult_ to get in the Fire Nation, but ocean kumquats are as close as you can get I _suppose_ , and I need to prove that we know how to make _real_ food in the South. None of that pickled rubbish. He says it’s best eaten with _cold_ meat, too, it doesn’t make any sense.”

Zuko nods, never once having understood Sokka’s fascination with and sheer passion for food. If food is warm and spicy, that’s enough for him.

“How do you survive with such a busy day?”

“I live a hard life, don’t I? I don’t think you’ll ever understand, Zuko, with all your free time. You’ve got it easy.”

“So easy. And I should get to my next quick, easy, not-at-all boring meeting,” Zuko says, as much as he wishes he could stay talking to Sokka for the rest of his day, not at all waiting for another one of those looks. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” he adds, wanting to get out of more of dealing with Sokka’s acting.

“No, no, you’re not getting rid of me that easily. When you’re finished for the day, come meet me out in the gardens.”

“Why…?”

“You’ll see,” Sokka smiles, backing away, “see you tonight!” he calls out, disappearing round the corner and leaving Zuko alone in the hallway. Now he has all afternoon to worry about what _that_ entails.

The day passes how it usually does; with tedium and Zuko wishing he were anywhere but there. As a kid, he used to think the meetings that held his father up all day were exciting and interesting and would look forward to the day he was Fire Lord and got to be important like that. Now he knows it’s all a lie, and nothing but exhaustion comes with these responsibilities.

He tries not to spend the entire afternoon thinking about Sokka, but it becomes increasingly difficult the closer the evening approaches. Dread and anticipation sit in his stomach for whatever Sokka’s planning, only worsened by the fact that he _knows_ he can’t keep this up. It hasn’t even been a day and Sokka’s behaviour is already sending his emotions into overdrive, he doesn’t know how much longer he’ll be able to stand this confusion.

The evening comes far too soon but also takes far too long to rear its head. Zuko contemplates coming up with an excuse and running away to his room; if there’s anything even _slightly_ romantic involved with Sokka’s plan, he may combust.

It doesn’t stop him from going to the gardens, though, a strange hope in his chest that he doesn’t quite understand.

Sokka is sat by the pond, a blanket laid on the ground beneath him and two bowls of food next to him. There are two unlit lanterns, one sat on the edge of the pond, one next to the tree. His face splits into a smile as soon as he sees Zuko.

“Okay, so it turns out it’s a lot harder to find spark rocks in the Fire Nation than in most places, so I need you to pretend you haven’t seen anything until I’ve borrowed your firebending,” Sokka says, shuffling to the edge of the blanket.

“Borrowed my firebending?”

Sokka rolls his eyes, “You know what I mean.”

Zuko sends two small flames flying out to the lanterns so they light up, casting a gentle glow on the space in the dying light of the sunset.

“Thank you,” Sokka says, grabbing Zuko’s hand and pulling him down to sit with him, very nearly sending him hurtling towards the ground. Zuko just about manages to catch himself before he falls on Sokka and the food, sitting down on his own _slowly_. “Now you can take it in.”

Zuko makes a show of looking around at Sokka’s set up even though it’s still the exact same, now with lit lanterns. “It’s…romantic?”

Sokka nods. “I wanted to do something nice. Since you’ve been busy all day and I haven’t been.”

“But…you didn’t have to go to all this. It’s not like anyone’s really around to see.” Zuko understands that putting on a show of acting like a couple in front of others makes sense, but _this_ feels unnecessary.

“People…walk through occasionally,” Sokka gestures vaguely, not really sounding convincing. “Besides, people around the palace knew what I was doing as I was getting all this stuff together.”

“But they wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t done it.”

“That’s not what this is _about_. You know I’m not one to half-ass things, plus, don’t you think people will think it’s weird if we’re a couple but never do anything, _ever_? The whole point of this is to change people’s opinions, right? Normalise our relationship? How can we do that if we don’t show the world a relationship?”

“The world isn’t _seeing_ a relationship. This is just us.”

Sokka sighs. “Sure, but the chefs know I was making food for you, as does Panuk when I told him I’d be bringing you some of the stew, the girl who helped me find a blanket knows I was planning this, as do all the dozens of people I asked for spark rocks.”

“So?”

“ _So._ People talk. These people have families, right? With a job in the palace, you think they don’t gossip about your life to everyone they know? So, people will talk about small, insignificant things like this that build up a picture of our relationship, and gradually shows people that two men can have a normal and happy relationship.”

Zuko frowns, still not fully understanding it. “But can’t we just tell people we’re doing these things?”

“That’s not how it _works_. Gossip spreads a lot better when the person it’s about isn’t the one spreading it. There needs to be an element of _secrecy_.”

“How does that work if you’ve gone round telling everyone you were planning a picnic...date…thing?”

“Because I didn’t give them the _full picture_. Now lots of people know small bits and pieces, but no one has the full picture.”

Zuko’s frown still holds steady on his face and Sokka sighs.

“It’s a good thing you’re pretty.”

Zuko cheeks flame and his heart stutters. “I’m- no- you’re not- I don’t-” Sokka called him pretty. _Sokka thinks he’s pretty._ Is _that_ acting? No one’s around, but maybe that doesn’t matter, according to Sokka. Surely, he doesn’t _mean_ it. It's _part of the show._

“Look,” Sokka says, lowering his voice and looking over at two servants who’d just come out of one of the doors to the gardens and were walking down the path along the outer edge. “They’ll see us here. They have no idea what we’re doing, what we’re talking about. They’ll just see us sat like this, close,” Sokka emphasises his point by shuffling closer to Zuko, so close their bodies are almost touching, “and they’ll wonder what we’re up to.”

“And that works?” Zuko asks, afraid to move from Sokka’s proximity.

“It’ll get people gossiping. They see things, they spread it, other people come out with other stories, it starts to build up a bigger picture. People get more and more curious.”

“You think that’ll help?” Zuko can hardly even breathe. Sokka’s face is close, not even a foot between them. Zuko’s sure he imagined it, but for a second it looks like Sokka’s eyes flick down to his lips and back again.

“I do. The more we give them to talk about, the better.”

Sokka brings one hand up and cups Zuko’s cheek gently, closing the distance between them until it’s barely inches.

“If we were to kiss right now, they’d have _plenty_ to talk about,” he whispers, breath ghosting against Zuko’s lips. Zuko can’t move, can’t even breathe. Sokka is right there, blue eyes filling up his vision, wide and shining in the dim light and fixing Zuko with an emotion he can’t put into words. Not quite the same look as before, from lunch, something _deeper_. Something he's never seen in anyone else's eyes.

Sokka’s thumb runs lightly across the skin of Zuko’s cheek, sending a shiver down his spine. He’s _sure_ Sokka’s about to move, close the rest of the short distance between them. His entire body is coiled in anticipation, his hair standing on end waiting for the moment Sokka’s lips press against his own.

Somewhere in the distance, a door closes, and it’s like the spell breaks between the two of them, Sokka dropping his hand and pulling away, all tension between them gone.

“They’ll have _plenty_ to talk about now,” Sokka says, slightly breathless.

Zuko lets out a heavy breath, finally able to breathe again. _It’s just acting_ , he reminds himself, _nothing more_. Sokka is slipping straight back into their normal behaviour, handing Zuko a bowl of stew and already digging into his own, completely oblivious to the way Zuko’s brain is having to restart to process their almost kiss and the _exhilaration_ he’d felt in anticipation of it. His heart is hammering in his chest, his hands unsteady taking the bowl, and his eyes unable to look anywhere but at Sokka’s lips.

“How was your day?” Sokka asks, like this is the most normal moment in the world and not like Zuko is stuck imagining how Sokka’s lips would feel.

Zuko shrugs, starting on his stew and trying to avoid looking at Sokka’s lips. It’s a lot harder than it should be. “The usual.”

“Being Fire Lord as exciting as always?”

“Thrilling.”

“I can’t say I’m jealous,” Sokka says, looking at the garden around them, “I wouldn’t trade my free time, even for palace life.”

“Like you’re not already getting palace life.”

Sokka grins. “Yeah, I gotta say, this is far better than sharing an apartment with Aang and Katara in Republic City. Even though they’ve got Air Temple Island now, I still definitely prefer this. No oogies and unlimited Zuko.”

“That’s all it takes to make you happy?”

“Easily. And food, but I get _plenty_ of that here.”

“You’re really happy here?” Zuko asks. “You wouldn’t be happier with your sister? Or at home, with your family?”

“This is home now,” Sokka says, “You’re my family, too.”

Zuko doesn’t know what to say to that. In seven years, he went from having no one but his uncle, to having five of the best friends he could ask for, plus his mother back, and a new sister. He’d never expected to have a family like this, and Sokka and Aang were really the first to make him feel like a part of a real _family,_ nothing like the one he was born into.

“Trust me,” Sokka continues, after no words from Zuko, “the _last_ thing I expected was to feel at home in the Fire Nation, but life is full of surprises.”

“It really is,” Zuko says, looking at Sokka and still seeing the remnants of the teenager he first met at the South Pole.

“I _definitely_ never expected I’d be hanging out with the Fire Lord on a regular basis. If you’d asked me ten years ago what I’d be doing with the Fire Lord, I’d say hopefully hitting him round the head with a boomerang, not cooking him dinner and making sure he goes to bed.”

“Glamourous.”

Sokka shrugs, a small smile on his lips. “Someone has to do it, and spirits know it won’t be you.”

“Why should I bother when I’ve got you to do it for me?” 

“Don’t say that like you’re at _all_ compliant,” Sokka says, finishing off his bowl in record time and putting it down on the grass, “now that I’ve got even more of an excuse to spend 24/7 around you, I’ll be really keeping an eye on you. Three meals and eight hours every night.”

“That’s _excessive._ ”

“That’s _normal_. Or do I have to start camping out in your room? I’m sure no one would question the Fire Lord’s boyfriend spending the night, I could easily get away with it.”

The word makes Zuko’s breath catch in his throat. _Boyfriend_. As does the idea of Sokka spending the night in his room.

“That _won’t_ be necessary,” Zuko insists. He wouldn’t be able to handle that, can already not handle the amount of time they’re going to be spending together. “We don’t need to spend all day together, really. We still have jobs. It’s hardly like in normal relationships they-”

“Nope, nu-uh, you’re not getting out of it that easily. Plus, you don’t know what I’m like in a relationship. I could be clingy.”

Zuko does distinctly remember Sokka and Suki being inseparable when they were together. Even in their friendship, Sokka has never been one to keep his distance.

“What do you mean ‘could be’?”

“Hey! What do you mean, ‘what do you mean’?”

“I wouldn’t exactly call you _not_ clingy…” Zuko glances down between them, at how he’s sat at the edge of the blanket, while Sokka is sat smack in the middle, leaning more towards Zuko’s side, only a few inches between them.

“That’s not- I don’t-” Sokka huffs, cheeks going red and shuffling backwards and putting some more space between them. “I’m not _clingy_ ,” he emphasises, crossing his arms with a pout. Again, Zuko’s thoughts drift back to his lips.

Zuko takes the leap and shuffles closer so he’s in the middle of the blanket with Sokka, the same distance between them as before. “I _like_ that you’re clingy.”

Sokka keeps his arms crossed and narrows his eyes. “Only because you like the attention.”

Zuko makes a mock-offended face. He can hardly deny how much he enjoys Sokka’s company, but he can try. “I was being _nice_.”

“I’m kidding,” Sokka says, nudging their shoulders together slightly. “A bit.”

Zuko rolls his eyes and puts his own bowl down. “Your stew was good. Did Panuk yield?”

“Ugh. He admitted it’s good, but still wouldn’t accept that it’s _better_. I think next time I might sneak in some chili flakes like I did with yours to teach him a lesson.”

“Please don’t say this will turn into an all-out war.”

“I can’t make any promises.”

They laugh, until someone else comes out and makes their way down the path and a heavy silence drops around them. Zuko watches them walk, terrified to look at Sokka, remembering what happened last time. He eventually gives in, feeling Sokka’s eyes burning into him. As soon as Zuko turns, Sokka’s eyes dart up quickly to meet Zuko’s. They’re close enough that Zuko could feasibly lean forward and stop all his wondering to find out how it _really_ feels. But it’s Sokka. He can’t just kiss him, not like that, they’re still just friends. But he is _Sokka_.

As soon as the door closes, leaving the two of them alone together again, they break apart awkwardly, avoiding looking at one another. Zuko looks up at the sky, the sun just dipping below the roof and lighting the sky up a deep, fiery orange.

“Sky looks pretty,” Zuko says, desperate to diffuse the awkward tension hanging between them.

“Are the clouds fluffy, too?” Sokka asks. Zuko can hear the smile in his voice.

Zuko turns to him with a scowl that disappears the moment he looks at Sokka again. The golden light has lit him up, skin kissed with gold and glowing in the low light. For far from the first time in his life, Zuko is reminded of how gorgeous Sokka is and it takes his breath away, just a little.

“You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

Sokka grins, his easy smile only making things worse for Zuko. “Never.”

Sokka grabs both their bowls and moves them out of the way, then shuffles forward and lies back on the blanket, looking up at the sky.

“Lie down with me,” he says, patting next to him and watching Zuko until he joins him. The ground is warm from the day, soothing against Zuko’s back. He could easily fall asleep here, next to Sokka.

They lie there in comfortable silence, all awkwardness between them forgotten, both watching the sky darken to a pink hue, the night fast approaching.

“Me and Katara always used to do this,” Sokka says, “when our dad left for the war, he told us that we’d always be under the same sky, no matter how far apart we are. Whenever things got hard, and either of us missed him, we’d always go out and lie under the sky together.”

“That sounds nice.”

“It was. It really helped when we were travelling with Aang. We both missed home, and our dad, so when the weather was good, we’d sleep out in the open without our tents to enjoy the sky.”

“Did you do it in Republic City, too?”

“Not as much. It’s busy there, you know? One night Katara was home sick though, it had been a while since we’d seen our family, and the next day Aang took her out for a picnic. He knew how to cheer her up.”

“You’re not annoyed he took her? Isn’t it your guys’ thing?” Zuko and Azula had never had anything like that they could hold precious to just the two of them, but he knows that he gets jealous easily.

He feels Sokka shrug next to him, their shoulders brushing briefly. “I’m glad she has Aang and that he knows what cheers her up. Otherwise, I’d never have been able to leave Republic City. At least I know he’s looking out for her.”

“I get that,” Zuko says, wishing he could know the same for Azula, wishes there had _ever_ been anyone looking out for her. A pang of guilt hits him, knowing that should’ve been him, all along.

“Besides, we all grow up eventually, right? Katara has Aang to help with her homesickness, and one day I’ll have someone, too.”

Zuko can feel Sokka’s eyes on him but keeps his own fixed on the sky above them. He really doesn’t want to confront his guilt over preventing Sokka from finding that someone, not right now.

“Someone to watch the sky with,” he says instead. He knows Sokka deserves someone like that; someone who can look out for him, can help when he misses home and his family, can keep him safe. Zuko knows it’s not what Sokka means because they’re just friends, but a small part of him wishes he were enough for him, that _he_ could be the one look after him like that.

“Exactly,” Sokka says, turning back to the sky, which has now settled into a deep purple, the stars starting to shine through the colour. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“You said you don’t like girls. But what about Mai?”

“Want to know the truth? We were only ever really together because of Azula.”

“ _Azula_?” Sokka says, turning back to Zuko, who still keeps his gaze fixed straight ahead. Being this close to Sokka, he doesn’t trust himself to face him, not after how he felt before.

“I know. She’d always tease us as kids and kind of put the idea in our heads that we liked each other. _Something_ started to happen between us before I was banished, but then I didn’t see her for three years. After Azula took Ba Sing Se, I was supposed to go back with her to the Fire Nation, but I didn’t want to at first.”

“You didn’t? You never told me that.”

“I was scared. That was what I’d been hoping for for _three_ whole years, but to do it I had to betray my uncle, and Katara when she’d been _kind_ to me, and I thought Azula had _killed_ Aang. I’d finally started to be happy with my life in Ba Sing Se and came to terms with the fact that maybe I didn’t need to go back and didn’t need my father’s approval. Then I was forced to choose between betraying my uncle and returning to the Fire Nation or betraying my sister and becoming an enemy of the Fire Nation. I didn’t want to have to make _either_ choice, I wanted things to just stay how they were. So, when Azula told me to prepare to go home, I didn’t want to. She wanted me to come home, though, and used Mai to do it. She set us up, manufactured a relationship between us, so I’d have something to go home for.”

“So, it was all just Azula’s manipulation?”

“Not completely. I care about Mai, so much, and she’s always been one of my best friends. But I’d known since I was a kid that I liked guys, I just…didn’t _want_ to. I tried so hard to like girls, to like _Mai_ , and I thought I did. But it didn’t take us long, after the war, to figure out that things weren’t right between us. I wasn’t interested in girls and she wasn’t interested in guys, we were both just trying too hard to ignore those parts of ourselves.”

“So _that’s_ why Mai is always visiting Ty Lee every time I go see Suki,” Sokka says with a soft laugh that makes Zuko’s chest ache for no good reason.

“No, I- no, Mai and Ty Lee? No, they’re not-”

“Oh, come on Zuko, it’s _obvious_. I’ve seen the way they look at each other. It’s only a matter of time.”

“They don’t look at each other like _anything_.”

Sokka laughs, “Zuko, you can really be the most oblivious guy in the world. I’m surprised you’ve even recognised that Aang and Katara like each other.”

“They’re _married!”_

“My point still stands.”

“Plus, how could I _not_ notice when you came running in screaming about them kissing, like, two seconds after it happened?”

“Okay, I think that was a pretty reasonable response. But wait, you’re telling me you _only_ noticed that they liked each other then?”

“Well, that’s when they started dating?”

“ _So?_ They’d been obsessed with each other from day _one_. Why do you think Aang was so moody about sitting next to Katara when we went to see that play?”

“I just thought he was being difficult,” Zuko says, turning to face Sokka and immediately regretting it because it means they’re now face-to-face, only a few inches between them. Even in the rapidly diminishing light, Sokka’s still glowing, a beacon that draws Zuko in like a moth amongst the darkness of the garden. “That was because he _liked_ Katara?”

Sokka laughs, “ _Obviously_. You really didn’t realise?”

“No! I didn’t get why he wanted me to move!”

Sokka only laughs harder. “You’re amazing, never change.”

Heat rises to Zuko’s cheeks and he turns back to the sky, hoping to keep it as hidden as possible from Sokka. Sokka wipes at his eyes then returns his attention to the sky, too. When he puts his hand back down on the blanket, it’s significantly closer to Zuko’s, close enough that their pinkies brush, ever so slightly. Neither of them move their hands.

“Can I ask _you_ a question?” Zuko asks, after a few long minutes of trying to build up the courage to do so.

“Go for it.”

“Have you ever dated a guy before?”

“Not really. Suki’s the only person I’ve really properly dated, I don’t even know if you could include Yue. I’ve gone on dates, and kissed guys, but I was never really interested in more. You know, me and Suki broke up because-”

Sokka shuts up very suddenly, his mouth closing with an audible pop.

“Because what? You never really talked about what happened between you two.”

“It doesn’t matter, it was nothing.”

“Sokka-”

“I mean it, it was nothing. We were in, uh, different places. We just…yeah, it didn’t work out,” Sokka blurts, moving to stand up, “I should get back.”

Zuko grabs Sokka’s wrist, stopping him in his tracks, “Please stay, just a bit longer.”

Sokka sighs, his nervous frown softening into a smile when he looks back at Zuko. “Okay, a bit longer.”

Sokka lies back down, that tiniest bit closer to Zuko, something entirely meaningless and accidental that Zuko still can’t stop thinking about. Sokka shifts, slightly, and their hands brush again, just the tiniest touch that sends Zuko’s heart into overdrive, pounding hard in his chest.

“This is nice,” Sokka says, and Zuko hums and indistinct reply, happy and comfortable. He lets his eyes slip shut, enjoying the heat from the ground and Sokka’s soothing presence next to him.

Sokka’s hand shifts slightly, then returns even closer, their pinkies overlapping. Zuko keeps his eyes shut tight, all sensations focused in on that one single touch, unable to think about anything else. Listening to Sokka’s soft, even breaths next to him, Zuko quickly drifts off into a peaceful sleep.

When he wakes up, Zuko is disoriented. The sky above him has turned into a high ceiling, the warm ground below him now a soft mattress. His hand is cold, separated from Sokka’s. He reaches out blindly, hoping to find Sokka, but finds nothing more than the endless expanse of bed next to him. He sits up and his bedroom is empty, no sign of Sokka anywhere.

On the bedside table next to him, there’s two teacups. One empty, save for a few drops in the bottom, and one full but cold. Propped up on them is a note written in Sokka’s messy scrawl: ‘sleep through the night’. Zuko heats up the tea in his hands and takes a few sips.

It’s dark out, probably the middle of the night, but Zuko is wide awake now. After finishing his tea, he stretches and gets up. He might as well get on with some paperwork while he’s awake. He glances at Sokka’s note, but he doesn’t need to know about this, he’ll only worry for the millionth time that Zuko isn’t getting enough sleep.

While he works, he struggles to get thoughts of Sokka out of his head; the way he looked in the golden light of the sunset, the way his hand felt against his, the way his lips would’ve tasted should they have gotten any closer. Zuko had been weak, that night, letting himself think things that he shouldn’t be. He resolves to do better, to keep his thoughts under control. This is _Sokka_ , he can’t start imagining that stuff. As much as he wants to go back and do it all differently, he instead vouches to not even let himself get close, next time.

Over the next few days, the two of them spend more and more time by the turtle duck pond. It’s Zuko’s favourite place in the palace, and he’s happy to share it with Sokka. He tries, hard, to keep his distance a little bit.

Agni seems to be looking out for him for once, because they end up getting a lot of alone time, which means as little pretending as possible. Sokka is still insisting on keeping up somewhat of the façade even behind closed doors, but at least he’s not almost kissing him or looking at him in _that_ way again, so Zuko can survive. For now.

Comments around the palace start to die down, a bit, and things gradually get easier with each day that passes. The two of them still get dirty looks occasionally, _especially_ if Sokka insists on holding hands when they’re walking between rooms. A lot of people don’t like that. Zuko has to keep reminding himself that this is why they’re doing it, of course not _everyone_ is going to have a positive reaction, that’s the whole point. It still doesn’t mean its not harder with every bad look they get.

“You know what we haven’t done?” Sokka asks, a few days into their performance, while they eat lunch next to the pond. Zuko had been insisting they eat meals there, because a couple meals in front of other people and Sokka’s constant _affection_ was enough for Zuko to never want to do that again.

“What haven’t we done?” Zuko asks, knowing that Sokka likes prompting before he dives into a conversation.

“We haven’t gone on a date.”

Zuko’s heart stops. Right. _Dates_. That’s part of a relationship, and they’re supposed to be in a relationship. Zuko opens his mouth to say something, object maybe, but Sokka puts a finger over his mouth before he can say anything.

“Before you complain,” Sokka says, taking his finger away, “it’s the same as the other night. People need to see us out and about, all that. So, we have to. Plus, I haven’t been on a date in _ages_.”

“We’ve gone out for meals as friends. What’s the difference?”

“What’s the difference? _Zuko_ , you’re young, foolish, naïve.”

“The other day you called me ancien-”

“Nope,” Sokka says, cutting him off, “you don’t understand. A date is _different_. You get to go all out, make a _spectacle_ of it.”

Zuko raises a disbelieving eyebrow. “A spectacle?”

“Yeah, a spectacle. Surely you know me well enough by now that you know I like to make a _show_ of things.”

“Is that a nice way of saying you’re loud?”

“Maybe. Point is, I show my love _loudly_ and just because this is a fake relationship doesn’t mean I’m not still going to do it.”

“So, you want to take me on a date?”

“I want to take you on _lots_ of dates, but we can start with one.”

This is dangerous territory, Zuko knows it. But he’s also excited.

“I’ll plan us a big, extravagant date. This weekend?”

Zuko panics, because the two of them planning and going on a date _together_ is one thing, but Sokka planning it by himself, meaning Zuko has _no_ idea what to expect, is something else entirely.

“Why do _you_ get to plan the date?”

“Because I’m romantic.”

“I can be romantic!”

Sokka narrows his eyes.

“I can! I could plan us a great date.” This isn’t exactly the direction Zuko meant to go in, but he _knows_ he could plan a good date and he can’t just sit by and _not_ defend himself.

“How about we make this more interesting, then?” Sokka asks, a mischievous smile on his lips. “Two dates. You plan one, I’ll plan the other. Winner gets the satisfaction that they’re the better boyfriend.”

“Deal,” Zuko says, unable to resist the pull of competition.

Sokka sticks his hand out and Zuko takes it, giving it a firm shake.

“May the best man win.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @ everyone who's read my other fic: yes i'm a complete sap for pinky touches and no i'm never changing
> 
> updates every friday! (it's technically the early hours of saturday in my time zone right now, but whatever)


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